tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-139297662024-03-19T03:48:54.210-05:00ERIC WILDER'S BLOGSPOTEric's online journal of myths, legends, memories and an occasional short story.Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.comBlogger502125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-12218506410921470712024-03-18T09:32:00.000-05:002024-03-18T09:32:32.354-05:00Oyster Bay Limbo - Chapters<p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: white; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUuaCGSjRREoY9kUWyXbDhb0BfRNyXSi7CNTiXmA0NSiLr7nVMj0L55a3h-72HhNu5oHITvV93Gk21btJWH1M9THCQnMtsukcoNzuS5k7HQHblPVUJg96E5HgE8sPpo8thWGseVYf3hd7Db5qfzFK1MItl5V5DH0Bk7TDTBSAEaLPr2aZ1SeDW/s1500/Bones%20Kindle.png" style="background-color: black; clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1351" data-original-width="1500" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUuaCGSjRREoY9kUWyXbDhb0BfRNyXSi7CNTiXmA0NSiLr7nVMj0L55a3h-72HhNu5oHITvV93Gk21btJWH1M9THCQnMtsukcoNzuS5k7HQHblPVUJg96E5HgE8sPpo8thWGseVYf3hd7Db5qfzFK1MItl5V5DH0Bk7TDTBSAEaLPr2aZ1SeDW/w200-h180/Bones%20Kindle.png" width="200" /></a></span></div><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Oyster Bay Limbo is my new book, number 4 in the Oyster Bay Mystery Series set on a magical island off the coast of Louisiana in the Gulf of Mexico. The action begins with an early-morning duck hunt culminating in the siting of a band of ghostly pirates. The action heats up when Amani LeClair, a beautiful and mysterious woman, appears on the beach in an old Volkswagen van. Who is Amani, and what is she looking for? Why is a coven of witches coming to the island? Will Louisiana mob boss Frankie Castellano prevail in his lawsuit and boot the island's quirky inhabitants out of their happy homes? <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C1WG1QJ4/ref=mes-dp?_encoding=UTF8&pd_rd_w=oP8nt&content-id=amzn1.sym.07f68587-1ea8-46cf-8c0c-8374d8d96b4a&pf_rd_p=07f68587-1ea8-46cf-8c0c-8374d8d96b4a&pf_rd_r=9T3TDH3Q2CQMX3RZAYXJ&pd_rd_wg=UTLne&pd_rd_r=faf804f9-0d72-41c7-85f8-e2cf4ea139eb" target="_blank">Limbo</a> arrives on March 26 and is available for pre-sale until then for only $2.99. Order your copy now, b</span><span style="font-size: large;">uckle up, and hold on tight because you're in for a wild ride.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><p></p><p><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: ArabBruD;"><span style="font-size: large;">Chapter 1</span></span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dawn was hours away when John Pierre Saucier banged on Jack Wiesenski’s
door. </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> was six feet tall with dark hair and eyes and had
the good looks of a movie star and the self-confidence to go with it. He’d
spent over twenty years as a deputy with the police department and had wanted
to retire for years and start a dog training academy. When his captain fired
him, he had no further reasons to procrastinate.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Lucky, </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.’s</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> chocolate Labrador retriever, waited for Jack to let them in. The footsteps
padding toward the door preceded someone opening a crack and peering out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Seeing it was </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> and Lucky, Jack, dressed in a blue nightshirt, motioned them to enter,
then padded into his little galley as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Jack was short, probably no taller than five-six or seven. He
was wiry, closely shaven, with brown hair buzzed almost to his scalp. From the
odd shape of his mouth, It was hard to tell if he was smiling or frowning.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What the hell, </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">? It’s not even five yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> and Lucky
followed Jack to the plank table in his little kitchen he called his galley.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Surely, you didn’t forget our duck hunt?” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I thought you were kidding,” Jack said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You said you wanted to go,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You didn’t tell me we were leaving in the middle of the
night,” Jack said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“We have to set our decoys out and be in the blind before the
sun comes up,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “You coming or not?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“My brain doesn’t work without coffee. I need a cup,” Jack
said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I have a thermos in the truck,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “Where’s Chief?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I think he thought you were kidding,” Jack said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Get your clothes on, your shotgun, and let’s move it. We
don’t have much time,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Hell, </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">! I don’t even have a shotgun.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> shook his head.
“This ain’t Massachusetts. If you live in Louisiana, you have to hunt ducks.
Don’t you know anything?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’m a fisherman, not a hunter,” Jack said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Grogan ‘Chief’ La Tortue entered the front door, followed by
his two dogs, Coco, a chihuahua, and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Old</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> Joe, a German shepherd.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Chief was an imposing man of American Indian descent. He
hadn’t bothered combing his shoulder-length gray hair, and it looked like he’d
slept in his chinos, moccasins, and blue work shirt. </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> was at least six inches shorter than the big Atakapa Indian. After
propping his shotgun against the wall, Chief went to Jack’s coffee pot, finding
it empty.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“What the hell?” he said. “You swearing off coffee these
days?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“It’s not even five o’clock yet,” Jack said. “I’m an early
riser. This is ridiculous.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I have an extra shotgun you can use,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “Get your clothes on. Chief and I will start the pot.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Jack grumbled as he disappeared into his bedroom. Dressed in
camouflaged fatigues, </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">’s duck call hung around his neck from a leather strap. Chief found Jack’s
bottle of Dominican rum and poured some into a mug as the coffee pot began
perking.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I haven’t hunted ducks in ten years,” Chief said. “Today’s
the first day of duck season. What’s your hurry?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Lucky holds the gold medal as the best duck-hunting dog in
St. Bernard Parish. The competition is coming up next week. We’ve barely had a
chance to practice with everything happening on the island. The two of us need
this hunt,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Hell, </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">, Coco, and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Old</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> Joe are raring to go. Maybe Lucky can teach them a thing or two.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> was grinning as
he poured himself a shot of Jack’s rum and topped it with the brewing coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Hope Jack doesn’t want to take Oscar,” he said. “Bulldogs
can’t swim.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“That’s a fact,” Chief said. “Doesn’t matter. I doubt we’ll
get out of the door without him.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Chief and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> turned when
someone said, “Or us.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">It was Odette Mouton and her two dogs, Mudbug and Bruiser. </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Mudbug was small, and Bruiser large. Odette was a former
Bourbon Street stripper, short, barely five feet tall, her wind-swept blond
hair contrasting with her dark Cajun eyes. She’d hitchhiked to Oyster Island
after meeting Jack and Chief at Rockies, a Bourbon Street strip club, and was
now part owner of the Oyster Island Dog Training Facility.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What are you doing here?” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I like hunting ducks,” Odette said.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You can’t go. There’s not enough room in my
duck blind.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Maybe you should have built a bigger blind,”
Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Odette can take my place,” Jack said. “I’m
not into hunting.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’re into drinking, aren’t you? That’s
half the fun of a hunting trip,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I like to drink,” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Okay,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “The only dog that needs to go is Lucky. The rest
can stay here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’ll stay with them,” Jack said. “You can
tell me about the trip when you return.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Me too,” Chief said. I never liked wasting
time sitting in an uncomfortable duck blind.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> was
frowning when he glanced at Odette. <br />
“I don’t know about this,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You look like twins dressed in matching
camouflage fatigues,” Jack said. “Get out of here and have fun.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Odette and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> grumbled as they loaded their shotguns and ice chests
into the back of the island’s awaiting all-terrain vehicle. Anticipating the
hunting trip, Lucky was the only happy member of the diminished group. </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> continued
grumbling when Odette beat him to the driver’s seat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You don’t even know where we’re going,” he
said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I take directions,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Fine. You know where Drusy Lake is on the island's
backside?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Bruiser, Mudbug, and I have a swimming spot
there.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You never told me that,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Lots of things I never told you,” Odette
said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You ever hunted ducks?” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Since I was about three years old,” Odette
said. “Cajuns invented duck hunting; my mama could make the best duck gumbo you
ever tasted.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Yum,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “Can’t remember the last time I had duck gumbo.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Me either,” Odette said. “Isaac has promised
to cook us a pot if we bring him some ducks.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Isaac was the chef at the Majestic Hotel and
Casino, the main attraction on Oyster Island, the barrier island off the coast
of Louisiana and situated about fifty miles from New Orleans in the Gulf of
Mexico.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“That shotgun of yours is bigger than you are,”
</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.
“You ever shot it?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Trust me when I tell you I can shoot a
shotgun as good as you. Don’t underestimate me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Get your panties out of a wad,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “My mama
could shoot better than my daddy could. It’s different with me because I’m a
trained professional.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> grinned
when Odette said, “Trained asshole.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Drusy Lake encompassed no more than forty
acres, the tops of dead trees protruding from the water. Even in the darkness,
Odette could see the shadow of </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.’s</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> duck blind. She parked the </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">ATV near</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> an open boat with
a small motor attached to its backside. Lucky jumped out of the little electric
vehicle, headed straight for the boat, and climbed aboard.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I put out the decoys yesterday,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “We just
need to get situated in the blind before sunup.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">
grabbed the ice chest, and Odette followed him to the little boat. The duck
blind was a permanent structure constructed of treated wooden planks. </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> had covered the frame
with grass panels, which looked like a thatch of brush in the swampy lake. He piloted
the boat beneath the blind and turned off the little electric motor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Did you build this blind?” Odette asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Worked on it over the summer,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.’s</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> head swelled when Odette said, “You did a wonderful job.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Thanks. At least it’s blocking the north wind blowing across
the lake.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Mid-forties isn’t bad,” Odette said. “We’ll forget about the
chill in the air when the ducks start arriving.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“In an hour or so,” he said. “How about a shot of rum until
then?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Got any coffee in your thermos to go with it?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You bet I do. Hot and black,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Just the way I like it,” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I even brought water for Lucky.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“He’s a beautiful animal. You’re fortunate to have him.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Getting fired this past year and starting a new career has
been tough. Lucky has helped me keep my sanity,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Dogs are the best,” Odette said. “Don’t know what I’d do
without Mudbug and Bruiser.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Odette cradled the steaming cup in her palms. Letting the
warm vapor waft over her face, she waited until he’d laced it with rum before
taking a drink.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Perfect,” she said. “Just what I needed to chase the chill
away.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“How’s your new job?” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Beyond my wildest dreams, Eddie has become a better boss
than I thought he’d be. He’s letting me make tough decisions, and we’re both
learning as we go.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I'm Glad to hear it,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. The training facility is doing well. If things go as planned, we’ll
have our next big sale soon. There is only one possible fly in the ointment.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Only one?” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> nodded. “Frankie Castellano’s lawsuit. If he wins, it’s back
to square one for all of us,” he said. “What else?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Eddie’s finances. He ate through his profits while the film
crew was on the island. He’s now into his savings.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Odette laughed when </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said, “Does he have enough to weather the storm until business turns
around?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Eddie has never saved a penny; the severance package the
government gave him when they let him go was all the money he had, and that is
all but gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“How do you know all of this?” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I do the books for the Majestic.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Yeah, but how do you know about Eddie’s finances?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I got worried when he sold his Porsche </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">911</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">,” Odette said. “He loved that car.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“He told me he wanted something bigger,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“A ten-year-old Chevy sedan? The tires are even worn out,”
Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Shit!” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “You just ruined my day. Have you talked to Eddie
about it?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Odette shook her head. “Not yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Why not?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“We’re living on an island ten miles from Chalmette. We can
barely find enough people to run the hotel, much less to pay to stay here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I grew up sprinkling Louisiana hot sauce on practically
everything I eat,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “Now, I’m eating antacids like candy. You gave me
another reason to buy an extra bottle next time I visit the grocery store.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I hear that,” Odette said. “Our world rests on Eddie’s work
in the courtroom. He’s going broke and hasn’t sobered up in six months. I’m scared
shitless.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Feels like we’re tightrope walking without a net.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I know,” Odette said. “What else could go wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I don’t even want to think about it. Let’s enjoy this duck
hunt and worry about everything else later.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">The sun was rising on the eastern horizon, an early morning
glow cast upon the lake's calm surface. Odette’s expression was perplexed as
she stared out at the far bank.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Hear that?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> nodded. They both heard the haunting melody carried on the
breeze. It was as if the wind was whispering secrets from the past.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What the hell?” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Something was moving on the lake’s edge. Odette also saw it.
Clutching </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.’s</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> elbow with one hand, she silenced him with the other. The
grass panes of the blind camouflaged them from view. Lucky couldn’t see the
lake for the mats. It didn’t matter. A guttural growl emanated from deep in his
chest as he lay prone on the wooden planks.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">The temperature inside the enclosed duck blind had dropped at
least ten degrees as a procession of ethereal figures began emerging from the
undergrowth, moving toward the other side. The group looked like a band of spirits
dressed in the garb of a past century. They could have been historical
reenactors, except they weren’t real, their luminescent bodies glowing with a
pale light amid the early morning mist rising from the lake.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">The dozen or so spirits, their clothes tattered and their
hair unkempt, were dressed as sailors from another century. Two men were
carrying a wooden chest. The group crossed the lake, their boots skipping
across the water like solid ground. When they reached the bank, the person in
charge motioned for them to halt.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">The imposing man wore black breeches and a flowing silk shirt
beneath a black leather vest. His hair was dark, as were his eyes and mustache.
The hat of a pirate’s captain topped his regal head. The two men carrying the
wooden chest set it beside him on the bank. Others in the group began digging a
hole in the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Not all of the spirits were men. An attractive woman in a ruby-colored
velvet dress stood beside the pirate captain. The woman’s skin color, a shade
of café au lait, suggested she was of mixed heritage. Her flowing black hair
and green eyes seemed to emphasize that conclusion. She had a roll of paper in
her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">When the sweating sailors had buried the chest, the woman
handed the paper and a quill pen to the pirate captain. He made a mark on the form
and returned it to the woman.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Odette and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> hadn’t moved,
transfixed by what they were witnessing. So intent were they on watching the
eerie scene unfold that they hadn’t noticed the flock of ducks that had landed
in the water in front of the blind. When Lucky sprang to his feet and began to
bark, the ethereal figures melted away. As they did, the ducks flew up and away
from the lake.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Lucky was still barking when </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said, “What the hell did we just see?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; tab-stops: 80.75pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;">“I don’t know,” Odette said. I do know that Isaac’s duck gumbo will have to wait a while.”</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; text-indent: 0.3in;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; text-indent: 0.3in;"> </span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: ArabBruD;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Chapter 2<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie Toledo owned and operated the Majestic Hotel and Casino, the
Prohibition-Era resort on Oyster Island. He lived on the top floor, and his veranda
had the best view of the Gulf of Mexico. Yesterday’s rain had finally moved
north as the early morning sun peeked through the cloudy sky. Not wanting to go
downstairs for breakfast, he nibbled on crackers, his bare feet propped up on
the railing surrounding the deck.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie was a forty-something bachelor from New Jersey who’d
lived and worked in New Orleans most of his adult life. A respected lawyer,
he’d graduated valedictorian from the University of Virginia Law School. He was
also the previous Assistant Federal District Attorney in the Big Easy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie had brown wavy hair, which he’d worn too long for his
position with the Department of Justice. He was good-looking and knew it.
Gorgeous women were his fatal flaw and why he was now working and living on
Oyster Island instead of enjoying the country club life in New Orleans’ Garden
District.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Following a torrid love affair with the beautiful daughter of
southern mob figure Frankie Castellano, Eddie was asked to resign. The
situation became even direr when he jilted Frankie’s daughter, leaving her
waiting at the altar.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie’s suite, in the center of the building and on its
highest level, afforded him a fantastic view of the beach. The past few days
had been stressful, and he’d gone without much sleep. He was about to nod off
in the chair when a cool breeze blowing in from the Gulf caused him to open his
eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">He went to his apartment to get a sweater. When he returned
to the deck, the faint glow of a campfire on the beach cutting through the dim
morning haze caught his attention. He decided to investigate and pulled on pants,
tennis shoes, and a sweater over his </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">L.S.U. t</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">ee shirt.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">The three-story Majestic Hotel and Casino had no elevator. It
did have lighting and electricity installed courtesy of a film crew filming a
vampire movie on the island. The hotel was empty following the departure of the
film crew. As Eddie descended the stairs, he felt a ghostly presence. It made
him wonder how many people had died in the old hotel and casino and how many
spirits resided there. He let the thought pass as he strolled across the
covered walkway to shore.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Though the rain had passed, a cold morning mist hung in the
air as he shuffled across the sand toward the beach. The odor of salty air and
the sound of waves crashing into the shore, a freshly painted red and white
Volkswagen camper van was parked in the sand, a fire burning, and no one was
there to watch it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">A backpack mounted on an aluminum frame sat near the van. The
camper had spread a yellow blanket on the sand in front of the tent, a speargun
cocked and loaded lying atop it. As Eddie watched from the ground fog floating
up from the sand, someone emerged from the water and walked toward the fire.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">The person dressed in a black wetsuit approached him. When
they removed their mask, Eddie saw it was a young woman. She pulled off the
rubber piece protecting her head from the cold, letting her long black hair cascade
to her shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Consumed by voyeuristic attraction, Eddie remained locked in
place as the young woman sat on the blanket and wrestled off her rubber pants
to reveal a yellow bikini bottom. When she removed the rubber top, he saw she
was naked from the waist up. A branch cracked when he stepped backward. He had
little time to react as she dived for the speargun on the towel beside her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I see you, and you’re about to get skewered. Step into the
light.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie complied with the woman’s request and said, “Don’t
shoot me. I surrender.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Stop right there. You get your eyes full?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie couldn’t help but grin as the woman pointing the
menacing speargun at him hadn’t bothered covering her half-nude body.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“If I didn’t, I have now,” he said. “Why don’t you put that
fish sticker down before you hurt somebody?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’m not a mad rapist. I’m Eddie Toledo, the owner of the
Majestic Hotel. I saw your fire from my window and came to investigate. Can I
lower my arms?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">The woman pulled the trigger on the speargun, the spear lodging
in the sand beside her. She dropped the weapon and patted the knife sheathed on
her waist.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“My knife is sharp as a razor. Make one false move, and I’ll
cut your balls off.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Whoa!” Eddie said, lowering his arms. “I’m a good guy. Not
here to rape anyone.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">The woman took her hand off the knife's hilt. The night was
chilly, and goosebumps popped up on her chest and arms. She disappeared into
the van, returning dressed in sweatpants and a light blue cotton sweater.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Who are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Like I said, I’m Eddie Toledo. And you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Amani LeClair.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Pleased to meet you, Amani. You have a lovely accent. Where
are you from?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Jamaica,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Amani’s arms were clasped tightly around her chest. “I thought
Louisiana was supposed to be warm.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Not in January,” Eddie said. “I’m from New Jersey, though
I’ve lived in New Orleans for the past decade.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Doing what?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Government prosecutor.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Figures,” she said. “Every lawyer I ever met was kind of
kinky.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Why do you think I’m kinky?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You were standing in the shadows, peeping on me. I’d call
that kinky. You a peeping tom?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I have my foibles.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Amani smiled and said, “We all do.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Amani had dried her long hair with a towel, and it was
beginning to curl tightly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Did you see something you like?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I'm sorry,” he said. “It isn’t often I see a beautiful
half-naked girl emerge from the sea.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Amani reached into her duffel bag, tossing him a silver flask
she’d fished out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You’re a ballsy sort, even for a lawyer. Have a drink.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie unscrewed the cap of the flask and took a drink.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Jamaican rum,” he said. “Pretty damn good!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You’ve tasted better?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Way better,” he said. “Try some of mine.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie fished his flask from his pocket and tossed it to
Amani, watching as she took a drink.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Best rum I’ve ever tasted,” she said. “What Jamaican
distillery does it come from?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Not Jamaican. It’s Dominican Rum.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“No way,” Amani said. “Show me the bottle.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Come back to the hotel with me, and I will,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I need socks and shoes. Wait for me?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You bet,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie waited by the little fire as Amani disappeared into her
Volkswagen camping van. She was gone for fifteen minutes. When she returned, a
colorful skirt and ruffled blouse had replaced her sweatpants.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Amani was still wearing the sweater and had a potted plant in
her arms. The plant’s vivid green leaves were attached to a vine that wound up
a tall trellis, beautiful yellow flowers blooming.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I need to water my plant before we go. Mind waiting?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Take your time,” Eddie said. “I’m in no hurry.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Amani filled a copper pot from the nearby pump to water the
flowering vine.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Your plant is gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like it.
What is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Amani smiled. “A cerasee vine. It grows everywhere in
Jamaica. Locals use the leaves and stems to make cerasee tea. It has medicinal
properties. I brought it with me from Jamaica.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“It’s lovely, just like you,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Ignoring Eddie’s blatant flirtation, Amani said, “I’m starving.
Does your hotel have a restaurant?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Of course,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’ll buy your breakfast, and you can show me your bottle of
Dominican rum.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You’re on,” Eddie said with a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Shall I drive us?” Amani asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“It’s not far. Let’s walk. Along the way, you can tell me why
you’re visiting Oyster Island.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Are visitors discouraged?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Course not. It’s just that you are off the beaten path. Few
people even know about Oyster Island.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I purchased the Volkswagen camper in New Orleans. The
salesman informed me the island has awesome beaches.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Did he now?” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“He didn’t tell me it was too cold to swim without a wetsuit.
I had to buy warm clothes.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“In Chalmette?” Eddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Amani nodded. “A nice town.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Good prosecutors always seem to know when someone is evading
the truth. Eddie wasn’t just good. He’d been among the best. He decided not to
worry about why Amani was on the island.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I parked the van near the public toilets and bathhouse,” she
said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Good choice,” Eddie said. “This was a public beach in the
thirties. The </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">WPA</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> drilled a well and installed the bathhouse and toilets. The
well still works, and so do the bathrooms. There is no hot water, but the showers
work. Are you planning on staying awhile?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’m on no particular timeline.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Looking for a job?” Eddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I have money and not indigent if that’s what you mean,”
Amani said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I wasn’t suggesting you are,” Eddie said. “I’m always
looking for help at the Majestic.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“What kind of help?” Amani asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Waitresses, assistant chefs, bartenders, room service,
maintenance. The list goes on.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Doesn’t appear you have much of a labor pool on the island,”
Amani said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Right about that,” Eddie said. “I’m a desperate man. Do any
of the positions I named attract you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I can do all of them, though I’m not looking for a job.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Perfect,” Eddie said. “What’s that in your hand?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Spanish doubloon,” Amani said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Find it in the surf?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“A lucky piece,” Amani said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Heavy objects float to the beach’s surface after a storm,”
Eddie said. “There’s another storm coming tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Maybe a </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">sunken Spanish treasure ship laden with a fortune in gold and emeralds lies in the depths near
the island.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“There
are rumors,” Eddie said. “You know something I don’t?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Amani
clutched Eddie’s hand. “We only just met,” she said. “I can’t tell you all of
my secrets.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Nor
would I want you to,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Cloudy
skies covered the Majestic as Eddie and Amani followed the wooden plankway to
the Hotel’s front door. Eddie had given Odette the day off to go duck hunting.
Meika smiled when Eddie and Amani pulled up stools in the dark little bar and joined
her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Meika,”
Eddie said. “This beautiful lady is Amani LeClair. She’s visiting the island
and is from Jamaica.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Meika
was a Cajun beauty with long black hair, dark eyes, and a winsome smile.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I
miss the film crews and thought I was going to be alone again today,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“What
you miss is their big tips. Is Isaac in?” Eddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You
know he is,” Meika said. “He told me he is making something special tonight for
dinner.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Like
what?” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“He
didn’t say,” Meika said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">As
they spoke, a little man came out of the kitchen. “My ears are burning.
Somebody talking about me?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Guilty
as charged,” Eddie said. “Amani LeClair, this is Isaac Guillot, the Majestic’s
incomparable chef.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Isaac
was a bald little man no taller than five-six or seven. He looked to be in his
mid-sixties but could be much older. His dark eyes had faded, though not his
smile. Isaac was smiling when he shook Amani’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Hope
you’re staying for dinner. I’m cooking something special,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“What?”
Eddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Duck
gumbo,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Where’d
you get the ducks?” Eddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Odette
went duck hunting this morning with </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> and the boys. They should be here any
minute with the wild game.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Sounds
wonderful,” Amani said. “Right now, I’m more interested in breakfast. In
Jamaica, I would order Callaloo with saltfish and fried dumplings.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’d
love to exchange recipes with you,” Isaac said. “Many people’s favorite here in
Louisiana is eggs Sardou.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Which
is?” Amani asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Poached eggs and creamed spinach on artichoke
bottoms with hollandaise sauce. Interested?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Isaac smiled and nodded when Amani said, “Sounds
lovely.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie and Amani were soon feasting on Isaac’s egg
Sardou.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“How is it?” Isaac asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Wonderful,” Amani said. “Eddie is a lucky man to
have you as his chef.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Glad you like it. I’d love to try your </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">callaloo with
saltfish and fried dumplings.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Amani
beamed Isaac her biggest smile and said, “I’ll drop by tomorrow morning and
show you. Right now, I have business to attend to.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Don’t
go,” Eddie said. “You haven’t seen my bottle of Dominican rum yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Show
me,” she said.<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie fetched a bottle of rum and topped up their
coffee cups.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I
must admit that this is the best rum I’ve ever tasted,” Amani said. “I can’t
believe it isn’t Jamaican.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Odette
and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> entered the bar
as Eddie and Amani discussed Dominican rum. Isaac had a quick question.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Where
are the ducks?” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“No
ducks,” Odette said. “Sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Not
even a single duck?” Isaac said. “What happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You
won’t believe us if we tell you,” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Odette
and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> were still
dressed in camouflaged fatigues and sat at the bar on the other side of Eddie.
When Eddie introduced them to Amani, they both did a doubletake.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Neither
Odette nor </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> responded when
Amani said, “Pleased. Thanks for your hospitality, Eddie. I have work to do.
Perhaps I’ll see you later?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I
certainly hope so,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Meika
poured rum for </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">, Odette, and
Eddie as they watched Amani leave the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“What’s
up?” she said. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I
think we just did,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.
</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: ArabBruD;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Chapter 3<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">As Isaac served
breakfast on the polished oak counter, Odette and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> forgot about
Amani. Meika topped up their coffee cups with rum as they ate. Isaac gave them
a look when Odette placed her fork on her empty plate and dabbed her mouth with
a napkin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Well?”
he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“What?”
she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I
can’t believe the two best duck hunters in </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">St.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> Bernard Parish didn’t return with a
single duck. There are thousands of ducks in Louisiana now. Surely, you saw at
least one.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Something
happened,” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Like
what?” Isaac said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“An
apparition,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Eddie
had turned his back to the conversation as he drank his rum-laced coffee.
Hearing </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.’s</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> pronouncement,
he wheeled around on the bar stool.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You
saw a ghost?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“More
than one,” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Tell
us about it,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It
was almost dawn,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. Odette,
Lucky, and I were in the blind. The decoys were set, and the morning fog was
floating off the lake as the sun came up. I heard something coming through the
trees surrounding the lake. Odette heard it, and so did Lucky.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“What?”
Meika asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“More
rum, please,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Meika
poured them more rum and said, “Whatever!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> isn’t
exaggerating,” Odette said. “Something came toward us through the underbrush.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Like
what?” Isaac asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“A
band of pirates,” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Get
out of here!” Isaac said. “There are no pirates in the Gulf of Mexico.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Maybe
not now,” Odette said. “There used to be.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“These
were ghost pirates,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “They
were carrying a treasure chest.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“How
do you know they were ghosts?” Meika asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Because
they walked across the lake like it was solid ground. They dug a hole on the
other side of the lake and buried the treasure chest.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Basil
Doles had walked in on the conversation. He didn’t interrupt as he took a seat
at the bar. Meika poured him a cup of coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Continue
with your story,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“There
was a woman with the pirates,” Odette said. “She wore a red velvet dress and looked
exactly like Amani.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You
must be hallucinating,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Odette
wasn’t hallucinating, and neither was I,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “The woman we saw didn’t just
look like Amani; she was Amani.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie
chuckled and shook his head. “You were a law officer for years. You’re
suffering from group hysteria.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Bullshit!”
</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “Odette
and I saw what we saw.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Your
brains were compromised when you met Amani. Your memories can’t be trusted,”
Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“We
saw her,” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> took a deep
breath, drank from his coffee cup, and patted Odette’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Eddie
could be right,” he said. “I’ve seen this syndrome play out for years. I’ve
just never been on this end of the stick.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You’re
doubting what we saw?” Odette asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Our
brains are powerful organs,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “They’re fully capable of playing tricks on
us.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“My
turn to say bullshit!” Odette said. “We saw what we saw. You know we did.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“We
saw a woman with dark hair, eyes, and coffee-colored skin. When we met Amani,
our brains connected the dots.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’m
not buying it,” Odette said. “Amani is the woman we saw.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Odette
and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> continued to
bicker as Eddie went to the bar to talk with Basil.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Basil
was reading the Chalmette newspaper. He dropped it on the bar when Eddie sat on
the stool beside him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> and Odette
looked at Basil when he said, “Could one of the pirates have been Jean
Lafitte?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Don’t
know,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “Maybe.
Why do you ask?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“The
Chalmette newspaper ran an article last week about the treasure map I found in
the hotel safe.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie
grabbed the paper and began reading the article. “I didn’t show the map to
anyone. Did you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Nope,”
Basil said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Then
who did?” Eddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Don’t
know,” Basil said. “Can we speak in private?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Let’s
go to your office,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Basil
Doles was the son of the wealthiest man in </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">St.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> Bernard Parish. He’d recently completed
his law degree from </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">L.S.U.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> and was helping
Eddie with his lawsuit against Frankie Castellano. He and Heather, his new
bride, had lived on the island until recently. They’d bought a starter home in
Chalmette, and Basil commuted to the island daily to help Eddie with the
lawsuit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">A
movie had just been filmed on the island. The studio’s construction crew had
modernized the complex and fitted it with computers, printers, and phones. The
filming crew was gone, and the offices were empty except for Eddie, Odette, and
Basil. Eddie followed Basil down the short hallway to the complex.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“What’s
so important that you need to talk to me privately?” Eddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“We
had a break-in last night,” Basil said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Was
something stolen?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Not
that I can tell,” Basil said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie
gazed around the complex. “Nothing appears out of place. How do you know
someone was in here?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Basil
opened his office door, grabbed a sheet of paper from the top of his desk, and
showed it to Eddie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“What
is it?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“A
copy of the treasure map we found in the old safe when the film crew’s
construction manager opened it for us. It was jammed in the copier when I tried
to use it earlier this morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie
stared at the copy of the map. “Who even knew it was in the safe?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You,
me, and everyone who read the article,” Basil said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Then
the person who broke in was probably from around here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Not
necessarily. The article was republished on the Internet and has made the
rounds on all the major social networks. No telling who read it,” Basil said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Damn!”
Eddie said. “How did they get in?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“When
I got here this morning, the front door was locked. No one has keys to the
complex except Odette and us. They must have picked the locks. I guess they
found the treasure map in the safe, made a copy, put it back in the safe, and
left.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“If
they didn’t want anyone to know they were here, why didn’t they clear the jam?”
Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Basil
grinned and said, “They did. The problem is there were two sheets jammed in the
copier. Whoever did this got the first copy without realizing another sheet was
also stuck.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Damn!”
Eddie said. “Any ideas?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’m
clueless,” Basil said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’ll
talk to </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> about it. Maybe
he’ll have some ideas.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“There’s
something else we need to discuss.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Like
what?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I
can’t keep working for you,” Basil said. “Marriage and impending fatherhood
have altered my perspectives on life. I need a real job and to move on with a
paying job.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Basil
nodded when Eddie said, “Heather’s pregnant?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“It’s
changed my perspectives,” Basil said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I
have money. I can pay you,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Basil
raised a hand and shook his head. “No, you don’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You
know something I don’t?” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Have
you talked to Odette lately?” Basil asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Every
day. Tell me what she said.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Basil
had an empty box beside his desk and was beginning to pack his belongings into
it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Maybe
you’d better ask her,” Basil said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Are
you leaving me? We have a hearing in three days.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Sorry,”
Basil said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You’re
killing me here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Wish
I had a choice,” Basil said. “I don’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">When
Eddie returned to the bar, he found Odette talking with Meika and Isaac.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“How’s
Heather?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Pregnant,”
Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Seriously?”
she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“His
asshole is puckered so tight he can hardly breathe.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“He’ll
make a wonderful papa,” Meika said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Odette
slid off her stool. “I’m calling Heather. We need to plan the baby shower.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Isaac
said, “Since we have no ducks, we’ll have to cook up something else.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Wait,”
Odette said. “I’ll drive up the road and buy some ducks. Everybody and their
brother went hunting today.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You
can’t do that,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Why
not?” Odette asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It’s
illegal. You’ll spend the next ten years in a federal prison,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Odette
looked at Eddie and said, “Is he making this up?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Nope,”
Eddie said. “<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">The Migratory Bird
Treaty Act of </span></span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">1918</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">
prohibits the capturing, selling, trading, and transporting of protected
migratory bird species. Don’t even think about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Damn it!” Odette said. “I had my heart set on
a bowl of Isaac’s duck gumbo.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Doesn’t even sound good to me,” Eddie said.
“Why is duck gumbo better than gumbo with oysters, crawfish, or shrimp?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Have you ever eaten wild game?” </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Wipe that smarmy smile off of your face,”
Odette said. “We’re talking about food and not some sexual escapade you once fantasized
about.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Odette isn’t lying,” </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “Duck gumbo prepared by a Cajun cook is wonderful.
You’ll never taste anything quite like it.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’m intrigued,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“How do restaurants sell duck gumbo if they
can’t buy the ducks?” Odette asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie shook his head and said, “They don’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Come to think of it, I’ve never seen it on the
menu anywhere,” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Go hunting again tomorrow,” Eddie said. “Duck
season has just begun.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I can’t,” </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “I have other things to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Me
either,” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Then
we’ll all have to wait on Isaac’s duck gumbo,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">One
of Eddie’s new employees was Alex Pavlovich. Alex had been a conscripted Russian
army officer during the Ukraine invasion. He’d fled with Renata Yatsenko, now
the Oyster Bay Canine Training Center’s veterinarian.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Separated
at the Mexican border, Alex and Renata were reunited on Oyster Island after he
and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> rescued
Renata’s mom and daughter from Ukraine. Alex was shorter than Eddie, his
receding hair dark and his pate shiny. His shoulders beneath a red floral Hawaiian
shirt were broad, his knees exposed by his shorts knobby. Alex grabbed a stool
beside Eddie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Morning,”
Eddie said. “You aren’t dressed for a chilly January day.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“The
weather here is like summer in Russia,” Alex said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Everything
okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Fine,”
he said. “I forgot something and need to return to my room.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> took the stool
Alex had vacated.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Is
he okay?” Eddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Confused,”
</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“About
what?” Eddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Renata.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“He’s
getting mixed signals?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“More
like no signals at all,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Renata’s
daughter and mother are crazy about Alex.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Sveta
and Iryna don’t make Renata’s decisions,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “I advised him to forget her and
find someone else.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">Eddie
chuckled. “With who? Odette or Meika?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I
was trying to be kind,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“He
could move to Chalmette.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You
tell him.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Hard
to worry about Alex when I have problems of my own,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Don’t
we all,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">You
two are close,” Eddie said. “Take him to Pauline’s.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Pauline’s
was a truck stop house of prostitution in rural </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">St.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> Bernard Parish.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Don’t
tell Heather about Pauline’s. Now that she’s pregnant, she thinks Basil’s
playing around,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“He’s
the last person I would ever expect to play around,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Doesn’t
matter,” </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> said. “It’s
hard fighting raging hormones.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">When
Eddie and Odette were alone at the bar, he said, “Can we talk?’<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Sure,”
Odette said. “What’s up?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Can
we go to your office?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“You
bet,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">When
they reached the complex, they entered Odette’s office, Eddie shutting the door
behind them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Basil’s
leaving me. He said it’s partially because you told him I’m running out of
money.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’m
a competent bookkeeper, Eddie. I can read the numbers and know what they mean.
I think you do, too.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Maybe
hearing you tell me will help it sink in,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“There’s
barely enough money to get us through the end of the month. Unless something
changes radically, we’ll have to shut the doors of the Majestic and let
everyone go.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Is
it that bad already?” Eddie asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I
think you already know the answer.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I
thought things would turn around. It’s like Elvis said, ‘You never know how
short a month is until you have a Cadillac payment.’”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Never
heard that one,” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“It’s
true. It’s been three months since the film crew left the island, and the
overhead is eating my lunch. Have any suggestions?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“A
convention would be perfect, though there’s no easy way to get a large group of
people from the airport to the island and back again.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“And
not enough nightlife to interest a group of rowdy conventioneers. I know; I’ve
attended a few memorable conventions,” Eddie said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“I’ll
bet you have,” Odette said, “I love my job and don’t want to lose it. We’ll
think of something.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“This
place is starting to grow on me,” Eddie said. “Will you stay with me until I
come up with an answer?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I
own part of the Oyster Bay Canine Training Facility, and we’re about to
graduate our first students. Jack, Chief, </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">, and I will have enough money to help
you. None of us can afford to lose the island.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“That’s
a problem,” Eddie said. “Basil just quit me. He’s packing to leave. The
situation was touch and go with him. Without him, I’m toast.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Damn
it!” Odette said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Don’t
panic,” Eddie said. “I can keep the wolves at bay until our cash flow
increases.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Then
what?” Odette asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">“Don’t
ask,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-margin-bottom-alt: 6.0pt; mso-margin-top-alt: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’ll
have a powwow with Jack, chief, and </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">J.P.</span></span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;">,” Odette said. “Maybe we can staunch
the blood until our luck turns. Right now, I have books to keep.”</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;">###</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdu-v8A99HbhQaSanS8z6BpQe7bRKgIbKoalYE16ROVbkid4nT3gwJDBALR8c9Jrkay4g2G8FitWA92fZTjPSAEPMI-vFBtxLjYMarTJOEqrlAJUvouTU8bPnKH5zPbdSd4dXyKTyS331-UQOb3Ub11i4KxHABp6nBJE08hBVlWDwZKyAW_1GA/s443/Oyster%20Bay%20Mystery.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="443" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdu-v8A99HbhQaSanS8z6BpQe7bRKgIbKoalYE16ROVbkid4nT3gwJDBALR8c9Jrkay4g2G8FitWA92fZTjPSAEPMI-vFBtxLjYMarTJOEqrlAJUvouTU8bPnKH5zPbdSd4dXyKTyS331-UQOb3Ub11i4KxHABp6nBJE08hBVlWDwZKyAW_1GA/s320/Oyster%20Bay%20Mystery.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBg7GutXwxqRrKYkbl9uWmFwKFZLzPHsTqXpQ9s6KGhtaHtxp7-5NEyYYOP3Ug6t56yF9n8Me3jnNdxZG8v81ihTfUrQq-6y3o2t8O2BE3_OcrNRjSiimWVsq8EMKJASP28KBjg4yKAIQdqsXMHJSiiuHeSFRJZ4Ek3RxgL4UZxLZemBM4Kgo9/s455/French%20Quarter%20Mystery%20Series.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="378" data-original-width="455" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBg7GutXwxqRrKYkbl9uWmFwKFZLzPHsTqXpQ9s6KGhtaHtxp7-5NEyYYOP3Ug6t56yF9n8Me3jnNdxZG8v81ihTfUrQq-6y3o2t8O2BE3_OcrNRjSiimWVsq8EMKJASP28KBjg4yKAIQdqsXMHJSiiuHeSFRJZ4Ek3RxgL4UZxLZemBM4Kgo9/s320/French%20Quarter%20Mystery%20Series.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLzCOTqJ2PQTjpcvuJMmDuXrqsHOKgVCzMFBU63jMzl_9ItUljUAq0Q3aiWDM6A69RT6hpctMIBUOCc3jZCKQWsX0rtE_44ItHf60kJCDi1TaBD_FVUKxBJ2kffO3TSmyDPrQH2sZ2BqgkflWg5gEN83mdvx35JdSGTa3BQbPj-hnG9Lnaior/s426/Paranormal%20Cowboy%20Series.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="388" data-original-width="426" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLzCOTqJ2PQTjpcvuJMmDuXrqsHOKgVCzMFBU63jMzl_9ItUljUAq0Q3aiWDM6A69RT6hpctMIBUOCc3jZCKQWsX0rtE_44ItHf60kJCDi1TaBD_FVUKxBJ2kffO3TSmyDPrQH2sZ2BqgkflWg5gEN83mdvx35JdSGTa3BQbPj-hnG9Lnaior/s320/Paranormal%20Cowboy%20Series.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: justify;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politi</span><span style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: justify;">cs, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma, where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He authored the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0C2KK83C9?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">French Quarter Mystery Series</a> set in New Orleans, the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0C2KK83C9?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Paranormal Cowboy Series</a>, and the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BWX2YXZM?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks" style="text-decoration-line: none;">Oyster Bay Mystery Series</a>. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: justify; text-decoration-line: none;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: justify;">author page. You might also like checking out his <a href="http://facebook.com/LouisianaMysteryWriter" style="text-decoration-line: none;">Facebook</a> page.</span></span></div><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-57188769282639853232024-03-14T19:13:00.002-05:002024-03-14T19:15:38.350-05:00Thief of Souls - Chapters<p><span style="background-color: white;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsWhj4SHwpO8_oIm91V1xiQ8U66D5hHZorPclf4Fz9mWmbxnE0r_7Jz3oKD90UujkLJjPNc49v1aOwkJrdpmpUNjM4bO36Ax5QqbLiTFFTJVa0U3vSPytejAWJ636B38g3qrx_MUx4rTiKn31S6e2ZQ8HKc1zdrHUO5AuHArHQGe_j2vZfsByb/s1583/Thief.2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1248" data-original-width="1583" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsWhj4SHwpO8_oIm91V1xiQ8U66D5hHZorPclf4Fz9mWmbxnE0r_7Jz3oKD90UujkLJjPNc49v1aOwkJrdpmpUNjM4bO36Ax5QqbLiTFFTJVa0U3vSPytejAWJ636B38g3qrx_MUx4rTiKn31S6e2ZQ8HKc1zdrHUO5AuHArHQGe_j2vZfsByb/w200-h158/Thief.2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /> I<span face=""Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13px;">n Thief of Souls, Book 11 of the French Quarter Mystery Series, a British pop singer hires disbarred attorney Wyatt Thomas to protect her from the devil. Scheduled as the Jazz Fest headliner, performer Dita Lika visits New Orleans early to seek the assistance of P.I. and paranormal investigator Wyatt Thomas. To help solve the dilemma, Wyatt enlists the assistance of a voodoo mambo, a defrocked priest, and a Harvard-educated historical researcher. What ensues is a whirlwind of paranormal adventure, fantasy, and mystery. Hope you love it.</span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /> </span></div><p style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: ArabBruD; font-size: 24px;">Chapter 1</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 11pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Not every horror story begins with a shocking murder. This one does.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Smoke wafted to the ceiling from the bonfire in the center of the large room. Some of the wood in the fire was almost too green to burn and produced a smell neither Charles nor his son Gillet recognized. Instead of a floral fragrance, it smelled like death.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Black drummers dressed in field pants and no shirts sat in a semicircle around the fire, their drumming drowning out any attempt at conversation. When an explosion in the fire pit filled the room with smoke, a Bokor, a mystic of African descent, appeared behind the growing flames.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span><span style="font-family: Bookman Old Style, serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-size: 13px;">The Bokor’s skin was blacker than the fire’s coals, and ridges of scar tissue marked every part of his body, not covered with voodoo tattoos. He walked through the flames with impunity, touching the gleaming coals with nothing protecting his bare feet. The drumming intensified as the Bokor’s dance became more frenetic. When the drumming abruptly halted, he stopped dancing and stood in the middle of the fire.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">The man’s voice was as deep and dark as his skin when he said, “Who is here to purchase a soul?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Charles Marchand, dressed like a wealthy plantation owner, sat cross-legged in front of the fire.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It is I,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Is the soul you wish to purchase for you or someone else?” the Bokor asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dr. John smiled when Marchand said, “For my son, Gillet.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Twenty pieces of gold is the price I charge for salvation,” Dr. John said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Charles Marchand stepped forward, pulling a money bag from his light blue silk jacket. Dr. John waited with a smile and an outstretched offering tray as Marchand began counting gold coins into it. When the final coin clanked into the ceremonial tray the drumming continued until the Bokor raised his hand. When he did, the room grew deathly silent.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Bring the woman who is about to lose her soul to me,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Two muscular assistants herded a frightened woman into the room. She had raven hair and dark eyes from which tears rolled down her pretty face. In her last weeks of pregnancy, the young woman struggled against the men gripping her arms. When the Bokor addressed her, she refused to meet his gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What’s your name, girl?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Afrodita,” she said. “You know what it is.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What kind of name is that?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">When Afrodita didn’t answer, Dr. John backhanded her, snapping back her head. Afrodita tried not to cry, though couldn’t quell her tears as blood flowed from her nose.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It’s my name,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You are beautiful, Afrodita. Almost as beautiful as Aphrodite, the Greek Goddess you received your name from. Your beauty won’t save you. You are about to die, and someone has purchased your soul. Without a soul, your destiny is to burn in hell forever. Do you have anything to say?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Don’t take my baby. She is innocent,” Afrodita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Such an act of kindness is not without cost. That cost is twenty pieces of gold. Do you have it?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Afrodita’s blood and tears washed down her face. When she raised her head, Gillet’s eyes met hers. He glanced at the floor, refusing to continue looking into her pleading eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I have no money,” she said. “Please, spare my baby.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Take her to the fire,” Dr. John said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Wait,” someone called. It was Charles Marchand. “I will pay for the baby.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">A smile crossed the Bokor’s scarred face as he watched Marchand count out another twenty pieces of gold into the silver offering tray. The drumming began again when the last coin clanked into the tray.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Charles Marchand sat on the floor beside his son Gillet. The handsome young man refused to gaze into the accusing stare of the young woman named Afrodita. Covering his face with a grotesque African mask, the Bokor chanted as he danced in and out of the fire.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">As the drumming grew louder, the Bokor’s dance grew more frenetic. Realizing her fate, Afrodita began to struggle. The two men shoved until they had positioned her directly in front of the Bokor. They released Afrodita’s arms, and then retreated to the recesses of the dark room.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">A ceremonial knife appeared in Dr. John’s hand. Grabbing Afrodita by the neck, he stabbed the knife deeply into her belly, blood gushing and covering her dress as he plunged his hands into her womb and yanked out a crying baby. Gillet winced as Dr. John held the bloody newborn by an ankle. The drumming continued as Gillet threw up on the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Holding his mouth, Gillet sprang to his feet and ran out of the room. The Bokor brought the crying baby to Charles Marchand as Afrodita lay dying on the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You have what you paid for,” Dr. John said. “Take it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Charles Marchand cradled the bloody baby in his arms, his blue silk jacket ruined. With a nod, he walked to the door and disappeared into the darkness.</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; text-indent: 0.3in;"> </span></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: ArabBruD; font-size: 24px; text-indent: 28.8px;">Chapter 2</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 11pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita Lika awoke from a violent nightmare with a scream that pierced the walls. The distressed cry awoke her sister Adelina, and she sat straight up in bed. When she burst through Dita’s bedroom door, she sat beside her on the bed and grasped her sister’s shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Sis, you were screaming. Are you okay?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’m good,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Is there anything I can do?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It’s morning. I needed to get up anyway.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Not me,” Dita said. “I was planning on sleeping until noon.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Then go back to sleep. Your nightmare wasn’t real,” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Maybe not to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What did you eat before going to sleep?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“A cheese sandwich,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“That’s your problem. Never eat cheese before bedtime. It always causes nightmares,” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Unlike her sister Adelina’s blond hair and blue eyes, Dita’s hair and eyes were dark. Sharr, Dita’s Illyrian sheepdog puppy’s tail, wagged as he scooted beside her. It was Dita’s first time sleeping in bed in many weeks, and she cuddled the puppy to her breast.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Miss me, baby?” Dita asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You kidding?” Adelina said. “Sharr has the run of the place.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It isn’t fair,” Dita said. “You take care of Sharr; he loves you more than me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Not true,” Adelina said. “He’s been so happy since you finished your tour.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I wish I could stay for a while. I love touring, though get so tired of the endless hotels.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Hah!” Adelina said. “I should be so lucky to order anything I want at any hour of the day or night.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’d soon be as sick of it as I am,” Dita said, “It’s so lonely on the road. I wish I could take Sharr with me,”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You have other things to consider when you’re touring,” Adelina said. “You have no time to care for a puppy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“And no one there to comfort me when I have nightmares,” Dita said. “I think I’m going crazy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You aren’t crazy, Sis. Everyone has nightmares.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Not like mine, they don’t,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Maybe you should consult a psychiatrist.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You just told me I’m not crazy,” Dita said. “Now you’re telling me to see a shrink?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Adelina squeezed Dita’s hand. “You are so beautiful and sexy. Your fans love you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Don’t change the subject, and stop patronizing me,” Dita said. “I’m nothing more than the flavor of the week. When someone else hits the scene, I’ll be little more than a fading memory.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Nonsense. You’re a superstar. The most talented musical performer to hit the stage in decades.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita hugged Adelina. “You’re my sister. I wish others saw me the same as you do.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Though I may be your sister, I also know it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see how talented you are. You’re a star; most performers never experience a moment of stardom.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita hugged Adelina and said, “Everyone tells me how beautiful and talented I am when I’m on tour. I must work at it to keep all the false compliments from going to my head. You ground me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’re as beautiful as you are talented,” Adelina said. “The truth is not a compliment.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’m only your older sister,” Dita said. “You’re giving me the big head.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Because you know what I say is true. It isn’t wrong to love the attention and adoration. Now, tell me more about your nightmare.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita pulled off her nightgown, tossing it to the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’m awake now, my nightmare a dying memory. Let’s go skinny dipping. I’ll feel better after a swim.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Adelina’s grin was mischievous as she stripped off her clothes and followed Dita and Sharr out the door. Dita lived in a palatial West Hampstead estate in north London. She’d paid eight million pounds for the house when her first song hit the charts and had begun putting her imprint on the property ever since.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">When Dita dived into the courtyard pool, Sharr followed her. Water splashed when Adelina dive-bombed them. They frolicked in the water until all three were exhausted and struggled to climb out of the pool. They didn’t bother putting on clothes as they lay on plush towels.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You still haven’t told me about your nightmare,” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Adelina shook her head when Dita asked, “Do you believe in Satan?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I try not to think about such things.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Have you ever had a dream about the devil?” Dita asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I don’t eat cheese before I sleep,” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“That’s not my problem,” Dita said. “My nightmare has nothing to do with what I eat before I sleep. It’s recurrent and starting to scare me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita nodded when Adelina said, “Tell me about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. A car horn down the street honked as Dita stretched out on the plush bath towel and put her arms behind her head.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It’s always the same,” she said. “I’m in a strange place I don’t recognize. There’s a young woman in the scene so pregnant she looks as if she’s ready to pop.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Then the woman in your nightmare can’t be you. You don’t even have a boyfriend,” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Don’t be critical. Neither do you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Just saying.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“And, I’ve never been to the place in my nightmare. It seems so strange, exotic, and unknown to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Paint me a picture,” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“A room so dark and humid, it seems like a dungeon somewhere in the tropics. Men dripping with sweat, beating drums around a fire. It’s like a pagan ceremony, except all the men in the circle are black.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Africa?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“America, I think, though not in this century,” Dita said. “We’re in a large room with an earthen floor. Maybe the basement of a huge house.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Who else is there?” Adelina asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Two white men dressed in silk suits that look like something from a French history book. I believe it’s a wealthy man and his son who looks as if he’d like to be elsewhere.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Adelina smiled and said, “Is he handsome?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Very. There is also a witch doctor named Dr. John. He’s presiding over a ceremony that always begins with the beating of drums and him dancing on burning coals.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Witch doctor? How do you know he’s a witch doctor?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Because of his scars, tattoos, and knowing smile. Someone in the room called him Bokor. I looked it up. It means a voodoo witch for hire who serves the loa with both hands.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What does that mean?” Adelina asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“A priest who practices good and evil. Bokors are Haitian mystics, though I don’t believe Haiti is where my dream occurs.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Where, then?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“New Orleans.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’ve never been to New Orleans. How would you recognize it?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Don’t know,” Dita said. She grinned when Sharr licked her face. “You smell like a wet dog.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“So, how are you a part of this nightmare?” Adelina asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“An observer. The two white men are in the audience, watching though not participating in the ceremony.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You keep calling them white men. You’re white.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Maybe I wasn’t during another lifetime,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Are you making this up as we go along?” Adelina asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“No way. It’s a different place and time. The men in the room treat the woman like a slave,” Dita said. ‘I had the feeling that perhaps I was a slave.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It must have been another time. There haven’t been enslaved people in New Orleans or anywhere else in centuries,” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“That’s what makes the nightmare so strange. It seems so real, yet it’s taking place somewhere I’ve never visited and during a time long before I was born.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“So, what happened?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“One of the white men had paid for the woman’s soul. Dr. John was preparing to kill her.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Get out of here,” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It’s true. The woman was resigned to her imminent death but begged the Bokor not to take her baby. He informed her it would cost another twenty pieces of gold.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Adelina’s hand went to her mouth. “The voodoo man was going to murder the woman and her baby?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Exactly. The woman didn’t have the money and was crying her eyes out. The older white man shelled out more gold to save the baby.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“And then?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Dr. John cut the baby from the woman’s womb and gave it to the man who’d given him the gold.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Adelina’s hand again went to her mouth. “Oh my God!” she said. “No wonder you were screaming. You aren’t pregnant, are you?’<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita shook her head. “Everyone in the troupe is wary of losing their jobs and half afraid to approach me. I can’t even remember the last time I had sex.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Maybe that’s your problem,” Adelina said. “Perhaps you need someone to screw your brains out.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Maybe so. Let’s go to Soho and find a walkup,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Kiss my ass,” Adelina said. “There are no male prostitutes in a walkup.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“How do you know?” Dita said. “Have you ever visited one?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Women don’t have to pay for sex. Especially not you, the most popular female entertainer in the world.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’re full of shit. If that’s true, then why am I so horny?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“All you need is a few weeks off from the tour. Find a man and stay in bed for a few days.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Not a bad idea. What’s my next gig?” Dita asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Jazz Fest in New Orleans. You’re headlining.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What’s Jazz Fest?” Dita asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Don’t be a thicko. Jazz Fest is an important music event. Every musical group wants to perform there.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You have to be kidding. I can’t go to New Orleans.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Of course, you can,” Adelina asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You don’t visit the place where your nightmares occur.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Why not?” Adelina said. “Maybe New Orleans holds the answers you seek.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I don’t think so.” Dita grabbed her cell phone and dialed her agent. “Raoul, I need to cancel my next engagement.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Cancel Jazz Fest? It’s the most prestigious event on your tour. Are you crazy?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’ve never even heard of it,” Dita said. “Who else has played the event?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“The question you should ask is, who hasn’t played it? The answer is every important musical act,” Raoul said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I have reasons for not going to New Orleans,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Sounds like a personal problem.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Very personal. Going there frightens me to death.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Doesn’t matter what you want. You’re committed, and it’s too late to back out. Don’t argue with me on this.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita was still talking into the phone when she realized Raoul had hung up.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What did he say?” Adelina asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“He gave me no choice but to attend.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“The Jazz Fest is in New Orleans, the very city where you are having your insane nightmare,” Adelina said. “Go there and find out what the problem is.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What if I lose my soul?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Now, what are you talking about?” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’m frightened,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’re fantasizing about your nightmare, and it’s been bothering you. Check it out while you’re at Jazz Fest.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I won’t have time to research my nightmare,” Dita said. “I’ll have a show to perform.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’ll love the place. New Orleans is the birthplace of jazz,” Adelina said. “It’s an exotic city, unlike any other place. As you said, maybe you lived there in another life.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Now you’re the one doing the fantasizing,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I read the brochure Raoul sent you. It seems reasonable your nightmare takes place in New Orleans. It’s just a nightmare. Why are you afraid to go there?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita didn’t answer Adelina’s question. “When does Jazz Fest start?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“A week from today,” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Get me a ticket. I’m going tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You can’t do that. You have to travel with your band,” Adelina said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Without me, there is no band,” Dita said. “I’ve made up my mind. Get me a ticket.”</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.3in;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif; font-size: 11pt; text-indent: 0.3in;"> </span></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: ArabBruD; font-size: 18pt;">Chapter 3</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">New Orleans winters are generally warm, though the last one had seen temperatures below freezing twice. Tornadoes had blown through the old city, taking several roofs and a few lives. It made me wonder how many tornadoes New Orleans had survived in its more than three-hundred years of existence.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">I’d gained a few extra pounds over the winter, a warm spring breeze begging me to get outdoors, exercise, and lose weight. Rain clouds raced over the French Quarter when I finally laced my jogging shoes and took the trolley to City Park.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">City Park is an oasis of nature not far from the French Quarter. It’s bigger than New York’s Central Park and boasts the most extensive collection of live oak trees worldwide, some over six-hundred years old. I’d lost count of the times I’d jogged through the park. Its lagoons, wildlife, gardens, and beauty still amazed me every time I visited.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">My run through the park invigorated me, and I’d worked up quite a sweat. Too sweaty to ride the trolley, I decided to continue on foot back to Bertram’s. My decision proved ill-advised when thunder sounded overhead, and the cloudy skies morphed into a spring rainstorm, my jogging shorts and tee shirt drenched long before I saw the neon lights of the French Quarter.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Bertram Picou, my landlord, and close friend, owned the most eclectic bar in the Quarter. His customers and tourists had gone home or to their hotels because of the rain. He caught my attention when I pushed through the door, pointing his Gallic nose at a woman sitting alone at the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">The attractive young woman was humming to herself as she filed her fingernails. She grinned and held her hand toward me as I stood dripping on Bertram’s old oiled-wood floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Are you Wyatt Thomas?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Yes. I got caught in the rain during my jog.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">I noticed her British accent when she said, “I’m Dita. Can we talk?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">I pointed to the creaky staircase leading to my apartment. “I live upstairs. If you don’t mind waiting a bit longer, I’ll shower and change out of these damp clothes.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Take your time,” she said. “Bertram and I are having a lovely conversation.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> Dita’s cut-off jeans were too short, and her cowboy boots and thigh-length red, white, and blue leggings were too brash. Her black cowboy hat paired with Lucy-in-the-Sky-With-Diamonds sunglasses was anything but understated. I turned around when Bertram called my name.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I fed that mangy cat of yours. Her yowling was running off my customers.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Sure they didn’t leave because of the rain?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Don’t be an ingrate,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Thanks,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Bertram had indeed fed my cat Kisses, and I found her asleep on my bed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">She didn’t open her eyes when I said, “Too wet to go tomcatting?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">I hung my sticky jogging shorts and tee shirt on the back of a chair, waited for the water to get hot, and then luxuriated in the steamy heat. Not more than fifteen minutes had passed when I returned to the bar dressed in khaki pants, sandals, and a blue Hawaiian shirt that would have made Elvis proud.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita smiled when she said, “Feeling better?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Think I’m going to live. Sorry for taking so long,” I said. “The hot water felt so good I had trouble leaving it. “What can I do for you, Dita?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I have a problem. Your name came up as someone who might help me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What kind of problem,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Something of a psychic nature. My people tell me you’re more than a private investigator,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Oh?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“They say you know about the paranormal, and voodoo in particular,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Me and everyone else in New Orleans. Did Bertram bring you a drink?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I don’t drink when I’m discussing business.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Bertram pushed a glass of lemonade across the bar toward me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Me either,” I said. “At least not alcoholic beverages. My coonass friend makes wonderful lemonade.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Bertram’s elbows rested on the bar as he listened to every word we said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita smiled when he said, “I brew a mean cup of Earl Grey.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You sell tea in a bar?” Dita asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Whatever floats your boat,” Bertram said. “Costs the same as a lime mojito.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“How much does a lime mojito cost?” Dita asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Ten bucks,” Bertram said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I can get a lime mojito at any pub in London for seven pounds.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It’s a long way to London from here, pretty lady. Make you a deal. Buy one of my lime mojitos, and I’ll throw in a crumpet for free.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Deal,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Bertram grinned as he mixed Dita’s mojito and presented her with the drink and a fresh pastry.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“This isn’t a crumpet,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It’s a beignet,” he said. “Try it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita took a bite of the succulent pastry and then another. “This is good,” she said. “What is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“A beignet from down the street,” Bertram said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You didn’t make it yourself?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’m a man of many talents. Making beignets isn’t one of them. Try the mojito,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita took a sip and said, “Very good. You could find work at any pub in London.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“They couldn’t afford me,” Bertram said. “I’ll get you another beignet.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“No,” she said. “I have to watch my figure.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You kidding? You got better legs than a movie star.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’d gain weight in a heartbeat if I didn’t work out daily,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">I interrupted their bantering and said, “Tell me about your problem.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It has to do with voodoo,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’m listening.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’re not put off talking about voodoo?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Voodoo’s a common topic around the French Quarter,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Thunder shook the roof, rattling the light fixtures.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Is it always this stormy?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Pretty much,” I said. “At least this time of year. Hope it doesn’t scare you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Few things frighten me,” Dita said. “My nightmare that recurs practically every night is disturbing, even to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Please tell me about it,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“It concerns a voodoo man named Dr. John. Did such a person ever exist in New Orleans?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Marie Laveau is the most famous female voodoo person from the past, Dr. John, the most notorious male voodoo practitioner,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“How long ago?” Dita asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">1840s</span><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">,” I said. “Your nightmare involves Dr. John?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“The devil and Doctor John are villains in my nightmare. It’s always the same. A voodoo ceremony in an empty room with a dirt floor. Shirtless men are beating drums, their driving rhythm the percussive music for Dr. John’s walk across a bed of hot coals.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">When she paused, I said, “Go on.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Dr. John’s face and body are covered with scar tissue. It appears symbolic and looks like someone administered the cuts with a scalpel or sharp knife. He looked quite frightening in the light of the fire.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You said you’re in a dark room,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita nodded and said, “Like the basement of a large house.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">She shook her head when I asked, “Where does the smoke go?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">We both turned our attention to Bertram and said, “It’s a nightmare. It don’t have to make sense.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Bertram didn’t reply when I said, “Dita feels her nightmare is real. She wouldn’t have traveled from London to tell us about it if she didn’t. Am I right about that?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita nodded. “I don’t know where the smoke went. There must be a plausible explanation because everything seems so real.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Then tell me more,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Dr. John addresses a woman brought from somewhere as Afrodita.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Your name,” I said. “Are you the woman in the dream?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita shook her head. “She is about my age, though someone I don’t recognize. She is also pregnant. Dr. John tells the woman someone has purchased her soul and he will kill her as a sacrifice to Satan.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Damn!” Bertram said. “Your story’s scary. I need a lemon drop.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What’s a lemon drop?” Dita asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Vodka, lemon juice, and sugar,” Bertram said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Thunder shook the rafters again as Bertram grabbed three shot glasses from beneath the bar, filling mine with lemonade and the others with the lemon drop concoction he’d mixed in a blender.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">We clicked glasses, drained them, and said, “Bottoms up.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Good?” Bertram asked when she licked her lips.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Tastes like lemon drop candy,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Just the way it’s supposed to taste,” Bertram said. “Sorry I interrupted you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Finish your story,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Where was I?” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Dr. John told the pregnant woman named Afrodita that he was about to kill her,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“An older white man responded when Dr. John asked who was paying for the soul.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Did you recognize him?” I asked. Dita shook her head. “Then describe him for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita nodded. “A handsome man. Early fifties. Dark hair and eyes. His clothes were regal. Blue velvet coat, hand-sewn vest, and brown silk pants custom made and from a different century. He gave Dr. John twenty pieces of gold.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“There must have been a reason he was buying a soul,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“For his son, Gillet. His father called him by his first name,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“That’s a place to start,” I said. “What did Gillet look like?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Long brown hair. Delicate facial features. He was crying and couldn’t look the woman in the eye when she begged Dr. John not to kill her baby. The voodoo man told her it would cost another twenty pieces of gold.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Heartless bastard,” Bertram said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">The lights flickered, the storm raging outside. An unexpected gust of wind rustled the front door.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“A ghost?” Dita asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“More than likely,” I said. “Lots of ghosts in the French Quarter.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Are you trying to frighten me?” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“There are ghosts in this bar,” Bertram said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Get out of here!” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’ve seen them,” Bertram said. “Some of them are famous.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Like who, for instance?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Louis Armstrong. He came around one morning early,” Bertram said. “Sang and played his horn for me until sunrise.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’re full of it,” Dita said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“If I’m lying, I’m dying,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita glanced at me and said, “Have you ever seen a ghost?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“More than you can imagine,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’re both full of it,” Dita said. “Don’t be stingy with your lemon drops.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Bertram poured more shots. “I’ll fix another batch if you help me drink it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita fumbled in her Gucci bag for a fifty-pound note and handed it to Bertram.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Why not?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Bertram grinned and stashed the note in his shirt pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You were telling us about Gillet,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“After Dr. John collected the twenty pieces of gold, he cut the baby from Afrodita’s womb. Gillet grabbed his mouth and ran out of the room. His father ruined his beautiful clothes when he took the bloody baby in his arms.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Damn!” Bertram said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Afrodita didn’t scream when Dr. John took the baby. I believe she had a smile on her face as she lay on the floor bleeding to death.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Double damn!” Bertram said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What exactly do you need me to do?” I asked. “Nightmares can’t kill you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Are you quite sure about that?” she said. “The answer to your question is I haven’t a clue as to what to do,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita flinched when thunder rattled the rafters. She was young, probably no older than in her early twenties. Her accent and outfit labeled her as worldly. Her unsure questions informed me she was grasping at straws. She raised her psychedelic sunglasses to let me see her face. When I didn’t react, she smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You have no idea who I am, do you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You’re Dita Lika,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Oh, my God! I underestimated you. Have you caught one of my shows?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’m an information junkie. I soak it up like a sponge. I saw your picture in the Picayune. You’re headlining this year’s Jazz Fest.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">It took Dita a moment to say, “Amazing. You’ve never seen me perform?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I like music, though I rarely listen to it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You live in New Orleans and aren’t a music maven?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I don’t go to movies, either,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You are strange.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I hear that,” Bertram said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You know who I am, don’t you, Bertram?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You got the best set of legs I ever seen,” Bertram said. “I’d know if I ever saw you before now.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita pulled out her cell phone, calling up a music video on YouTube. Bertram and I drew close to the phone as the video began to play. The primary performer was Dita Lika. After watching the video, I realized it didn’t take a musical genius to see she was a generational talent.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Damn, girl!” Bertram said. “You dance as good as you sing. No wonder you got class-A legs.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">When Dita put away her phone with a smug smile, I said, “I’m available to help.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’ve been here before,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“At Bertram’s?” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“New Orleans. Jazz Fest begins next week. I want you to stay close to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Jazz Fest has lots of security. You don’t need me. You’ll never be in danger.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Before Dita could continue, thunder shook the rafters again, and the electricity went out. From the darkness outside the front door, Bertram’s wasn’t the only French Quarter establishment affected.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Does this happen often?” Dita asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Bertram lit a candle and placed it on the bar between us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Enough so that I keep candles and storm lanterns under the counter,” Bertram said. “Hope you don’t mind drinking by candlelight?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita was grinning. “Love it,” she said. “The lights should go out more often.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Bertram grabbed his cell phone. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">After hanging up, he poured us another shot.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“What happened?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“An electrical fire at the Roosevelt,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Bad?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“The lights are out, and the hotel is full of smoke,” Bertram said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Damn!” Dita said. “I was booked at the Roosevelt.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“Not tonight,” Bertram said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"> “It’s still early, and we can worry about your hotel accommodations when they restore the electricity,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Realizing the blender was empty, Bertram poured lemon juice, vodka, and sugar into his blender.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“No electricity,” I said. “Remember?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">He grabbed a wooden spoon from beneath the bar and said, “Right. I’ll have to fix the next batch like my mama used to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I better call a cab and find a room,” Dita said when they’d finished drinking the last batch of lemon drop shots.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I live in a suite of rooms behind the bar,” Bertram said. “There’s an extra bedroom with its own bathroom. You’re welcome to stay there for the night.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita glanced at me and said, “Is Bertram trustworthy?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“You don’t run a bar in the French Quarter for as long as Bertram has without being trustworthy. If you can trust anyone, it’s him.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">“I’ll take you up on your offer,” she said. “Jet lag has caught up to me. I need some sleep and feel good about the two of you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;">Dita grinned when Bertram said, “Except for the whipping part, we’ll treat you just like your mama.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.3in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BQQYVL4Z?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_10&storeType=ebooks" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="132" data-original-width="351" height="75" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8GJQXznD-OJA8yhMsqLTVuue03St-5ie3-aOHIapjHeSTf5gDzveU8P5OAyjbB-EqyP-dvPesedI13okyxN44cNPrQza-npWGnFJsWoMNpTTSnqKpLACZ0AQQ4x8UXyHO1B3aHCyoocWPYtFYABdBKd3zWOIbrbR6dBgrKuGnKwimhYW3BzAuShcFvHM/w200-h75/AMZ-Button.png" style="border: none; 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color: white;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBJA7HBoQxmnrEd7AoGWTjhEmck7xfb7ZdRR1593pkmLOoKV0HnIPDD48uai4VshJweNnhxZQpdFuviQDT4xRottM3JKZXB4MCtjWY4qDa1K3F4QAvqGg92s612gUPf2aAFuc-SWqOQM97g0y5dV8Yn6Yt41rvLoISLnkV_Ei_ZbrHPDFgemf/s426/Paranormal%20Cowboy%20Series.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><img border="0" data-original-height="388" data-original-width="426" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBJA7HBoQxmnrEd7AoGWTjhEmck7xfb7ZdRR1593pkmLOoKV0HnIPDD48uai4VshJweNnhxZQpdFuviQDT4xRottM3JKZXB4MCtjWY4qDa1K3F4QAvqGg92s612gUPf2aAFuc-SWqOQM97g0y5dV8Yn6Yt41rvLoISLnkV_Ei_ZbrHPDFgemf/s320/Paranormal%20Cowboy%20Series.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><br /></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma, where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He authored the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0C2KK83C9?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">French Quarter Mystery Series</a> set in New Orleans, the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0C2KK83C9?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Paranormal Cowboy Series</a>, and the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BWX2YXZM?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks" style="text-decoration-line: none;">Oyster Bay Mystery Series</a>. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-decoration-line: none; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">author page. You might also like checking out his <a href="http://facebook.com/LouisianaMysteryWriter" style="text-decoration-line: none;">Facebook</a> page.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #539bcd; color: #bbbbbb; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in;"><span style="font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><br /></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">My new book is titled <i>Garden of Forbidden Secrets</i>. It is Book 7 of my French Quarter Mystery Series and is set in New Orleans. I always enjoy writing about New Orleans and this book is no exception. I’m also a huge basketball fan and enjoyed creating Taj Davis, my veteran NBAer, for this book. If you read my last book <i>Sisters of the Mist</i> then you’ll remember I sort of left Eddie Toledo dangling in the breeze. I’ve resolved his dilemma in this book and I’m seriously thinking about spinning off Eddie into a new series. After you read <i>Garden of Forbidden Desires</i> I would love to hear your reactions and thoughts. The book isn’t yet available for pre-order on Amazon but shortly will be. Right now it's available in <a href="http://bit.ly/ForbiddenGarden">Nook</a>, <a href="http://bit.ly/GardenofSecrets">iBooks</a>, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/garden-of-forbidden-secrets">Kobo</a>, and <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/903779">Smashwords</a>. Thanks for your support and I hope you love the book when it comes out on March 1, 2019.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;">The desire of veteran basketball player Taj Davis to end his professional career in Cleveland is thwarted when he is traded mid-season to New Orleans. His first night in the Big Easy he stays in an old French Quarter hotel crowded because of the Christmas holidays. He's assigned a suite of rooms that haven't been used in more than forty years. When he dozes off in the bathtub, he finds out why.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;">Accosted by a demon, he escapes into the hallway, his foot lacerated by a broken wine glass. He realizes as a bellman escorts him to the hotel doctor that he is carrying a bloody voodoo doll. He also learns that the strange tattoo on his chest is a voodoo symbol with an unknown meaning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-size: 13.5pt;">On a trip to a voodoo shop to find out about the tattoo and the bloody voodoo doll, he meets a young woman named Adela with an identical tattoo on her chest. Sensing that something frightening and possibly supernatural has brought him and the young woman to New Orleans, Taj retains voodoo mambo Mama Mulate and her partner French Quarter sleuth, Wyatt Thomas to help him solve the mystery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder">Amazon</a><span style="text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl">Barnes and Noble</a><span style="text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG">iBook</a><span style="text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/">website</a><span style="text-indent: 0px;">.</span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Written after a failed marriage, and while I was still suffering from deep depression caused most likely by my time in Vietnam as an infantry foot soldier, much of this story is autobiographical. Like the lead character in the story, my life was in a mess. I somehow managed to keep my day job and most of my relationships, probably because it was during the "wild and crazy" days of the Oklahoma Oil Boom of the 80s, and almost everyone at the time was drunk, stoned, or both. Every fiction has a grain of truth, and there was a real person I met one night who called himself Blue Angel. And yes, I owned a 750 Triumph Bonneville, just like James Dean.</span><br /><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Dying twilight and flashing neon beckoned me into one of the many stripper bars skirting the edge of town. I parked my bike beside a row of Harleys and opened the black enamel door, blaring rock and roll flooding over me as I made my way through the crowded barroom. A tipsy dancer had just begun her gyrations on center stage, and I grabbed the first empty chair I came to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">When my eyes finally adjusted to the subdued light, I noticed the man sitting beside me had a big pear-shaped head and a screwy grin on his pug-ugly face that indicated he was already drunk. He was also obese; his double chin dove into hairy flab wedged beneath the gaudy western shirt he wore.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Unmindful of my sudden critical stare or foaming brew dribbling down his neck, the fat man slugged beer straight from the pitcher without an offer of apology. Despite his repugnancy, I couldn't turn away, his ugliness mesmerizing me.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">The man's blackened teeth looked like California asphalt on a hot August day, and a motorized wheelchair supported his bulky frame. He grinned when he finally noticed me staring at him. Had I been sober myself, I'd have searched for another chair. I wasn't.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I wished I had minded my own business when he said, "Kinda motorcycle you ride?"</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Dancing strobes flooded center stage with silver light, further accenting his drunken grin. I straightened in my chair and said, "Triumph Bonneville 750. Like James Dean."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Most people 'round here ride Harleys," he said.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Glancing around the crowded barroom, I saw what he meant. Leather-clad, bandanna-headed bikers of both sexes crowded the stripper bar, rotating strobe lights magnifying their greasy hair, deadhead tattoos, and silver earrings. The fat man's raspy voice shattered my flight of fancy.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"What's your name, bub?"</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Denzil. You?"</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"You can call me Blue Angel."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I needn't have worried about my inability to suppress a drunken snicker. Blue Angel didn't seem to mind. He was apparently either used to the look, or else he just didn't give a damn. I forgot about my musings when the girl on stage winked at me and brazenly jutted her breasts. Blue Angel whistled, using his index fingers to tightly stretch his thin lips, producing a piercing shrill.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Pleased to meet you, Blue Angel."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Nam," he said, seeing my inquisitive glance at his withered legs. "Landmine."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">After comparing tiny legs with his bloated body, I had trouble believing his deformity was anything other than congenital. I kept my opinion to myself, not wishing to insult him even further.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"I was there," I said. "Infantry."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Blue Angel grabbed the elbow of a passing waitress, ignoring my assertion, and ordered another pitcher. His broken-tooth grin had all but vanished from his inflated cheeks.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"I ride a Harley," he said.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Advanced inebriation and a pinch of embedded meanness marked my blurted reply, regretted the moment I spoke the words. "The hell you say. Cripples can't ride bikes."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">My drunken grin failed miserably to indicate that I meant the vicious remark in the best possible way. Blue Angel's own smile revealed he had taken no apparent offense. He just kept describing his cycle.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Three-wheeler. Hand controls. Custom made."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">On stage, the nude girl with broken hearts tattooed on her breasts gyrated to the caustic strains of a Bob Seeger psycho-melody. Multi-colored strobe lights flared in my face. From a shadow-cloaked corner, the waitress returned with Blue Angel's pitcher of beer and he tipped it to his lips, swilling beer until it gushed from his mouth, wetting his shirt. He shoved it toward me when he finished.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"You work, Denzil?"</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Longshoreman."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Married?"</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Not now," I said, shaking my head.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Marrying soon, myself," he said. "Luanna's crippled too. Met her at a paraplegic convention. Gonna marry her right here on center stage.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Terrific," I said.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Hell's Angels comin' from all over the country. Big event. Be here or be square."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Ignoring his off-handed invitation, I returned my attention to center stage where two blonds were dancing in an odd pseudo-sexual parody. Blue Angel whistled to the waitress, hastily ordering another pitcher.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">By now, I was totally anesthetized by cold beer, blatant sex, and loud music. When we finished the second pitcher, I ordered yet another. Awash in noise, beer, and gyrating naked dancers, Blue Angel wheeled himself to the bathroom. When he returned, he slid out of his wheelchair and onto his back on the filthy floor. Without success, he struggled to get up.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I tried lifting Blue Angel's dead weight back into his unwieldy vehicle but found he was heavier than he looked. Two bikers wandering over from the pool table helped, grinning as if they'd performed the same task many times before. After we'd killed another pitcher of beer, Blue Angel asked me to show him my bike.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Why not?" I said.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Through the crowded barroom, I wheeled him, past milling bikers, out the side door to the parking lot flooded with interfering rays of moon and neon. Parked between a black Harley and candy apple pickup, we found my metallic blue Triumph.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"No Limey bike's good as a hog," Blue Angel said. "Least it ain't a rice burner."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Faster than any hog," I said. "And lots of rice burners."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Maybe. Take me for a ride?"</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"You crazy?" I said. "I couldn't even lift you off the floor in there. How do you expect me to get you on back of the bike?"</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Jack and Banjo will help."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"But you wouldn't stay put, even if we managed to get you on back."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Then strap my ankles to the bike frame with bar rags. I'll hang on."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Shaking my head, I said, "I might not make it home myself, drunk as I am. If you want to go for a ride on the back of my bike, Blue Angel, then you must be drunker than me."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Blue Angel's lips curled into a pleading pout. "I ain't that drunk. Please take me. I've never been on a Limey bike before."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Maybe next time," I said, wheeling him back toward the strip bar.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">* * *</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I don't remember when I began stopping after work for drinks at the Blue Note Lounge. Sometimes, I stayed until Jimmy Turner, the owner, kicked me out and closed the place. Sheila didn't mind much. She was busy with her life, new job, summer softball league, etc. That summer, she met Big Zina, playing ball on the same team. Before long, Big Zina began going everywhere with us. Out to eat, to the movies. I didn't mind. When Big Zina was around, Sheila was always in a good mood. When she wasn't. . .</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Sheila had never smoked during our seven-year marriage. That summer I began finding ashtrays filled with butts, hers and Big Zina's. I also found a half-smoked roach in an ashtray. Sheila and Big Zina confessed to buying a lid to smoke at a Peter Frampton concert. They spent the weekend out of town, seeing Peter Frampton and doing other things with some of the girls from the team.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 31.6667px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="text-indent: 0.3in;">I bought a metallic blue Triumph Bonneville 750 motorcycle shortly after our divorce</span>. I knew nothing about motorcycles and had never ridden one, but I immediately needed to wrap my legs around a powerful engine and drive it very fast down the highway.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">After selling my old Mustang, I began riding my bike everywhere, even in the rain. Most of my free time I spent swilling beer at the Blue Note. Sometimes, I made it home without remembering where I had been or what I had done. Once, two teenage boys lifted the cycle off the pavement when I tumped it over, leaving the bar. I remember the shock in their eyes when I charged out of the parking lot, barely missing the front fender of a passing car.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">About that time, Jimmy kicked me out for good. In a drunken fit, I threw a pitcher of beer at his frosted-glass mirror behind the bar. Unsatisfied with the ensuing explosion, I capped it off by smashing a couple of chairs and tables with my fists and feet. Jimmy and two regulars tossed me out on my face.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Don't ever come back," he said as I powered away on my cycle.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">After Jimmy banned me from the Blue Note, I began frequenting sleaze joints and biker bars populating the back roads leading to the ocean. It was there I met Rhonda.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Rhonda had red curly hair, a tattoo on her left shoulder, and ultra-red lips the same intense color as her skin art. Her personality also matched her hair. She smoked pot, used various drugs, slept around, and had no visible means of support. Between jobs, she had explained, Rhonda lived in a three-room wood-framed cracker box on the wrong side of town.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Shortly after we met, we made love - spontaneously in the front room on her shabby couch. We were both drunk, Rhonda's libido further stoked by pot and coke. I made do with beer and a couple of shooters. As we made love, I noticed her faded green curtains gaping wide open for the world to see. The front door was also open.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Think I better close the door and window?"</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Why?"</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Because someone might see us."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Fuck 'em," she said.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Rhonda had long since sorted out her life, going through men faster than some women go through nail polish. As I became attached to her, she had already finished with me, tossing me away like an empty bottle. Leaving a bar one night, drunk and alone, I motored past her place, maybe to satiate my morbid curiosity. See who she was with. Perhaps, deep down, I thought she might be alone and be happy to see me.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Parking the Triumph in the drive, I strolled up to her front door, peeking through the window before I knocked - a good thing because she wouldn't have answered anyway. She was on her back, and she wasn't alone. Rhonda and a long-haired, nearly nude man were in motion on the shabby couch, feeling the apparent throes of full-blown, drug-assisted sexual nirvana. I had to kick-start my heart and then my bike.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Gunning its engine, I trenched Rhonda's front yard as I sped away, nearing sixty by the time I reached the approaching intersection. It didn't matter that the light was red because I didn't have time to stop anyway. An old woman wheeled her Chevy directly in front of my fleeting path, and I still remember her startled look when she saw me sliding toward her. I was very much out of control.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Concerned motorists pulled the cycle off my chest, the accident sparing me, and mostly the motorcycle, but leaving me cut, scratched, and black and blue. When the cops finally released me, I watched headlights trailing away into the night, feeling the fool. I walked home alone after the tow truck had hauled away the bike.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">* * *</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"You awake?" Blue Angel said, tapping my shoulder.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Sorry," I said, glancing up into his big cow eyes.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">A nude dancer was weaving a sexual burlesque on the grimy wooden stage in front of us, and lightning flashed through the open front door. I could smell rain blowing in from the north.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Gotta go," he said, tapping the counter. "Don't forget my wedding next Saturday. Right here, same time."</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Jack and Banjo suddenly appeared, pushing through smoke, shadows, and frenzied customers, wheeling Blue Angel out the front door. They lifted him into the bed of an awaiting pickup and drove away as rain began to fall. I watched them disappear into the neon-illuminated gloom and rested my head on the counter.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">By now, my brain pulsated with a deep-seated ache, threatening to burst straight through the skull. Resting my head on the bar, I closed my eyes, letting loud music and bar noises resonate through flesh, bone, and the distressed wood of the stage. The moment provided scant solace. Instead, I screamed through space, straight to the back of the truck with Blue Angel, my suddenly blurred thoughts a vision of street noise, glimmering neon, and passing humanity. Blue Angel flashed his blackened grin when he saw me.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">"Welcome home, Bub," he said.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">###</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqjKunPd-Q30tzLR0ue0Vlhp92pv5up7ke9DzFvNCUVXM6qiukG_yWWfPjJudcec-FoBNz156p40qYOYLynaFme-pfZYmE0xf3PKwdFyDCk9hWAoKrKKPFYmoE1CrfnL6anbw9h_pdZDftLpHyNcXc_fSD0WBbfq3iL4TmmrmDl7DCkQHAiJlv/s455/French%20Quarter%20Mystery%20Series.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-indent: 0.3in;"><img border="0" data-original-height="378" data-original-width="455" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqjKunPd-Q30tzLR0ue0Vlhp92pv5up7ke9DzFvNCUVXM6qiukG_yWWfPjJudcec-FoBNz156p40qYOYLynaFme-pfZYmE0xf3PKwdFyDCk9hWAoKrKKPFYmoE1CrfnL6anbw9h_pdZDftLpHyNcXc_fSD0WBbfq3iL4TmmrmDl7DCkQHAiJlv/s320/French%20Quarter%20Mystery%20Series.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZ-v9zfmIqzw5bmMwMMlsDnpyH7cfpkVw_psjTlWVEkIjliQfcIExJWXcUDWD6G91ifB6vAkKpljW_dDiXqS-qgPqug5mP3-SS7Gas3bYA5NUPMDW8lovck348tq1BX6yqfQLhDm4CEG8ubDrDBNfIRXat2qYPpEMTPIFw5uM7DQGLE9IexzO/s426/Paranormal%20Cowboy%20Series.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="388" data-original-width="426" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZ-v9zfmIqzw5bmMwMMlsDnpyH7cfpkVw_psjTlWVEkIjliQfcIExJWXcUDWD6G91ifB6vAkKpljW_dDiXqS-qgPqug5mP3-SS7Gas3bYA5NUPMDW8lovck348tq1BX6yqfQLhDm4CEG8ubDrDBNfIRXat2qYPpEMTPIFw5uM7DQGLE9IexzO/s320/Paranormal%20Cowboy%20Series.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZDcrfjP-R_2DtqnKtdAzeq_Nu6pRnH101A5dbHxVimLS5cDDX0-DJJHjFPNaqEHRQHkkty2vR2NInU71GCGF7e_wX25nP2_Wra34pyg70NE4-a8f1nQXeQmguT8fw2CLYNCjkT0o0w0L4WIJTnYxlj2SshUQzKLKbKx4p5wBlrLNN5_zZaAx/s443/Oyster%20Bay%20Mystery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="443" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZDcrfjP-R_2DtqnKtdAzeq_Nu6pRnH101A5dbHxVimLS5cDDX0-DJJHjFPNaqEHRQHkkty2vR2NInU71GCGF7e_wX25nP2_Wra34pyg70NE4-a8f1nQXeQmguT8fw2CLYNCjkT0o0w0L4WIJTnYxlj2SshUQzKLKbKx4p5wBlrLNN5_zZaAx/s320/Oyster%20Bay%20Mystery.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma, where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He authored the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0C2KK83C9?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">French Quarter Mystery Series</a> set in New Orleans, the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0C2KK83C9?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Paranormal Cowboy Series</a>, and the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BWX2YXZM?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks" style="text-decoration-line: none;">Oyster Bay Mystery Series</a>. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: justify; text-decoration-line: none; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="text-indent: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0px;">author page. You can also check out his <a href="http://facebook.com/LouisianaMysteryWriter" style="text-decoration-line: none;">Facebook</a> page.</span></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-22009056800941436702018-10-08T21:57:00.000-05:002018-10-12T18:07:45.757-05:00Pole Dancer - a short story<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I can't recall the exact time I wrote this short story though sometime during the 80s is a safe guess. It's about a man, an American Indian man, visiting a strip club to watch his sister perform. The idea came to me after I had visited a strip club. I'd had a conversation with a dancer who was upset because her father had come into the club to watch her perform and to try to convince her to quit her job. The bouncer had thrown him out before he'd had a chance to do either. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Reading the story again after many years I can still feel the anger in my words that I felt following a failed marriage and, most likely, still suffering from PTSD from my time as an infantry machinegunner in Vietnam. The sentences are choppy and the dialogue stilted but I refrained myself from launching into a massive edit job because it was written by the person I was at the time and not the same person I am now. Thanks for reading Pole Dancer and I hope you like it anyway. <b>P.S.</b> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 28.8px;">If the subject of nudity offends you then please stop reading now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><b>Pole Dancer</b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Another hot Oklahoma day, dry clouds streaking a faded sky as dervishes of swirling dust burnished Joe Redbird's elbow. Two crows, examining an armadillo carcass, moved out of his path. Joe had other things on his mind and didn't notice as he </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 0.3in;">passed a slow-moving pumping unit, siphoning the last greasy sips from a dying reservoir. Scattered remnants of a once proud industry littered both sides of the road, staining the dry earth with dirty water. Overhead, a lone hawk floated in a thermal updraft.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Redbird pulled into a pea-gravel parking lot surrounding a freestanding cinder block building. Broken neon lighting, mounted on two pilfered stands of drill pipe, proclaimed the place Valley of the Dolls.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Shading his eyes from noon sun, he steered the pickup between a red Chevy and a dented Fat Bob Harley. Waves of damp heat flooded the cab when he opened the door. He didn't bother stretching as he side-stepped a drunk Okie leaning against the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">He squinted into murky darkness, smoke accosting his eyes and loud music his ears. At least the air-conditioning felt good, chilling his sweaty neck as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A half-nude waitress encircled his waist with slender arms, pressing her breasts into the small of his back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Whatcha having, Geronimo?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Pitcher of Bud," he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Smile, Chief. Can't be all that bad."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Redbird's expression remained dark, despite the young woman's friendly prodding. He nodded toward the bar circling center stage. His mousy-haired server puckered her lips and made lewd kissing sounds. When he refused to respond, she wriggled her nipples between thumb and forefinger and then kissed him on the cheek.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"You need something, just whistle. I'm Anita."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Redbird's features remained impassive as Anita winked and backed away through the crowd. When his eyes dilated enough to see, he glanced over his shoulder at the dozens of other patrons. Bikers in leather and chains, soldiers with shaved heads and roughnecks in dirty overalls. They filled the large room to frantic capacity, and he had to elbow his way to an empty chair at center stage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">His dollar tip earned him a wet kiss when Anita returned with his pitcher of beer. Ignoring her, he wiped the lipstick off his face with the back of his hand. Anita shrugged and eased away through the crowd. After draining the first glass, he poured another. Then he faded into cool darkness as pulsating-neon flooded center stage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Several-dozen prairie voyeurs rattling beer bottles soon replaced the jukebox. A new dancer was preparing to come on stage, and shrill whistles began piercing the darkness. Redbird cocked his head for a better view of the wooden stage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Staggering up the short ramp, a young blue-eyed blond woman licked her lips. Clad in only a bra and gold sequined g-string, she smiled at the whistling, cat-calling audience staring back at her. When the jukebox began, she gyrated in a drunken simulation of sensuality. Above blaring rock and roll, a high-pitched voice shrilled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Hey baby, show us your snatch."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When someone put two soft hands on Redbird's shoulders, he knew who it was without turning to look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"What are you doing here, Joe?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Redbird pivoted in his chair, gazing up into a dancer's dark eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Pete Thompson said I'd find you here."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The young woman's long hair draped in raven waves over bronze shoulders. Reflections in her dark eyes rippled like black paint in a blender. Joe's neck grew warm as he sensed the gaze of everyone around them. They were admiring the attractive dancer, a woman with smooth skin, brown as his own.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Pete's right. I'm a dancer."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Glancing over his shoulder at the girl on stage, Redbird said, "Like her?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When Victoria shut her eyes, Redbird could almost feel the hot flush spreading up her neck. Opening them, she stared at the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Mom send you?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">In a voice barely audible above the loud music and grating background voices, he answered, "Mom doesn't know you work here. Maybe you can tell me why you do?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Redbird leaned forward, touching her hand, causing her to wrench away and back into a drunk at the table behind her. The man groped her leg before she could move away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"I have no answer. Least one you'd understand."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Try me."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Vicky, you're up next," someone called from behind the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Have to go," she said. "Finish your beer and get out of here before you embarrass us both."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Will it embarrass you to have your big brother watch you strip and do squat thrusts while these monkeys masturbate in the dark?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Vicky shook her dark mane. "I don't do that. They are to watch me dance. That's all."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Glancing at the girl weaving drunken circles on stage, Redbird said, "You call that dancing?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"What about you? You've been here before."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Different," he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Victoria tried to smile, but her quivering lower lip betrayed her true feelings. She leaned against the table so no one else could hear her reply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Why is it different?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Because people are laughing behind your back," he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Who are they laughing at? You or me?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"I don't dance in a titty bar."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Yeah, and I suppose all your friends have great respect for the way you earn a living, driving a garbage truck."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Honest work."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"So is dancing."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"This isn't dancing, Vicky. It’s obscene. I feel sorrow for you and shame for our family."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Only thing you feel is your throbbing head and queasy gut when you wake up Sunday morning with puke on your pillow."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Doesn't change things," he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Victoria touched his hand and said in a whisper, "I can't expect you to understand. I've wanted to dance since I was a little girl."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"But why here?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Because we all have decisions to make, and don't always have enough choices."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Redbird folded his arms and shook his head. "These scumbags don't care if you dance, or parade around on all fours. In fact, I'm sure that's what they would prefer."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"I do it for myself, Joe. Not them, and not you." When he didn't reply, she said, "Just get out of here. Please."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">He stayed in his chair, noticing glints of sadness flicker and fade in the darkest corner of her eyes. Her lip quivered, and she drew a breath, almost losing the tiny halter covering her breasts when she exhaled. Clutching it to her bosom, she hurried away through the crowded tables.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Though impassive, his shoulders began shaking in an almost imperceptible tremble. Sitting straight up in the rickety bar chair, he locked his folded arms against his chest and turned toward center stage. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 0.3in;">Everyone locked on to the blue-eyed dancer. No one had noticed the confrontation. Enveloped in her third song, she'd already discarded the sequined halter covering her breasts. As he watched, she yanked on her golden g-string.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">With eyes like a stalking wolf, she promenaded across the stage on hands and knees. When she spotted Redbird and saw his frown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Pulling the snap of her g-string, she twirled it once around her head, sniffed it, and then tossed it around Redbird's neck. With a satisfied smirk, she flipped over, wrapping long legs around her neck. She rolled across the stage, displaying her shaved privates. Her performance brought whistles from the drunken crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Redbird turned away. Some perverse curiosity returned his gaze to the stage. He locked onto the young woman's sweating body, dirty from the dust tracked floor. She writhed in widening circles, not forgetting Redbird until the music ceased.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When the song ended, she collected the dollar bills scattered across the stage and grabbed her outfit in a slight bend of the knees. Redbird folded his arms and turned away, trying to lose himself in the remaining slug of beer. At least, until a hand touched his shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Another pitcher, Chief?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Redbird nodded. After returning from the bar, Anita filled his glass, sipping from it before handing it to him. Confused by his rampant emotions, he studied the rose tattoo on her breast and the strange gold fleck in her left eye. She licked foam from her lips with an overt flick of her tongue. His dollar tip earned him another wet kiss, followed by solitude as she departed to wait on someone else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Attracted by the booming jukebox, Redbird's gaze returned to center stage. As beautiful Victoria appeared through the neon-lighted darkness, he held his breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Except for her near-nudity, she seemed a beautiful princess, ascending dirty steps to a royal throne. Behind Redbird, the anonymous audience whooped and whistled their approval. He couldn't look her in the eye but couldn't take his own off her body. His face and neck grew red. Victoria was tall and dark, moving across the stage like a dandelion wafting in the breeze. She pirouetted in slow, measured circles, long raven hair billowing in synchronous waves. Her eyes, dark and liquid, mesmerized and quieted the audience, Her movements possessed them. Victoria whisked off the tiny halter covering her breasts during a slow turn on the polished pole. As a single entity, the crowd gasped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Joe Redbird watched, along with bikers, soldiers, and roughnecks. His skin flushed with rising anger. Unable to forget the leering creatures gaping at his beautiful sister, he turned away. His head began to shake with a subtle flutter that crept into his shoulders and down the base of his spine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Victoria's last number sheathed its patrons in a tight knot of rapt concentration. As bass notes resonated through the murky darkness, her movements entwined them. Nothing disturbed her as she revolved around the polished pole, like a holographic vision in a giant music box. Finally, she whisked off her last garment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Screaming shouts and wild applause punctuated her curtsied finale. Smiling at the ovation like a prima ballerina, she waved, acknowledging their praise. As she prepared to exit the stage, Redbird hoisted his half-filled pitcher of beer, hurling it at his sister.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">She dodged the missile, watching it crash into the wall-length mirror behind center stage. An explosion of flying shards liberated the audience as angry patrons closed around Redbird. A fat security guard bullied his way through the crowd. When he reached for Redbird, the tall Native American took a round-house swing and knocked him on his ass. With fists raised, he pivoted in a semi-circle, daring anyone to touch him. Someone did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Willowy arms encircled him; the gentle pressure of soft breasts in the small of his back calmed him like water on a lighted fuse. With fury bleeding from his soul, he allowed the woman to back him to the front door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Get the hell outa here and don't ever come back," the fat security guard called after them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Someone started another song on the jukebox, and another dancer took center stage. Bar patrons grumbled but returned to consuming more beer and watching the next performance. Mousy-haired Anita pushed Joe Redbird into bright August sunlight of the graveled parking lot. He halted when she shouted at him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"What right have you got pulling a stunt like that?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Naked, except for a yellow strip of tawdry cloth covering her pubic hair, she waited for his answer. It never came. Instead, his apathetic stare caused her to shield her bare breasts with a perfunctory arm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">A pickup passed on the highway, honking its horn and raising dust devils on the blacktop. Heat from late afternoon sun sent perspiration trickling down Redbird's neck. Wiping it away, he continued staring at Anita in silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">They stood like gunfighters preparing to draw their weapons. Brilliant sunlight revealed all the young woman’s physical flaws. Her self-confidence began to wane, and even the rose tattoo on her breast seemed to fade. Redbird stared at stretch marks on her breasts and belly, blinking as he studied her bowed legs. After gazing at angry scars of adolescent acne on her almost pretty face, he turned away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; mso-no-proof: yes;">H</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">er shoulders sagged. Taking a single step backward, she tripped on a rock in the uneven parking lot and almost fell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Quivering with emotion, she said, "Victoria is beautiful. Everyone loves to watch her dance. If you didn't want to see, you shouldn't have come."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Redbird didn't answer, unsure of what he had seen, or how he felt. Returning to his pickup, he lowered the windows before cranking the engine. The heat felt like the last agonizing breath of a bursting lung.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">As he pulled out of the parking lot, he glanced again at sad Anita, her arms folded across her bare breasts. Numbed by emotion and too much beer, he spun the tires in loose gravel and drove away back down the lonely blacktop road from where he had come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-80562182630528332652018-10-03T22:50:00.001-05:002018-11-25T12:58:48.281-06:00Ghost of a Chance - an excerpt<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Having grown up only a few miles from Caddo Lake, the largest natural lake in Texas, I remember its mystery, beauty, and danger. My grandmother lived on a farm at the very end of a long dirt road, not far from the lake, in east Texas. When I was young, Grandma's house had no electricity. Whenever my brother Jack and I visited her, we watched as she churned butter, drank well water, and burned coal oil in sooty lamps. At night we listened to panthers and wolves howling outside in the woods. Emma Fitzgerald is the first character to appear in my book Ghost of a Chance and she reminds me a lot of my east Texas grandmother.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Texas is a big state and east Texas reminds you more of the old south than the wild west. The town of Jefferson was once the largest seaport in the state and as many as twenty-five steamships visited the boom town daily to load up cotton to take down the river to New Orleans. Unlike the wild west, east Texas is hilly with pine forests so thick the area has been called the "pine curtain."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Ghost of a Chance is my first published book and remains as one of my favorites. It features my Oklahoma private investigator Buck McDivit. Buck is visiting east Texas for the first time and quickly becomes a victim of culture shock. I hope you wind up loving both east Texas and <a href="http://getbook.at/AmzGOAC">Ghost of a Chance</a>. If so, you might like the other two books in the <a href="http://amzn.to/2s97vKe">Paranormal Cowboy Series</a>. Thanks for giving the first three chapters a read. </span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Chapter 1</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Emma Fitzgerald’s rocking chair creaked as she listened to a chorus of frogs down by the lake. Silent lightning snaked across the sky, and angry clouds rolled toward the island. The approaching storm heightened the old woman's senses and sent a chill down her spine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The storm arrived with lazy raindrops dampening the path to the lake. Emma didn’t notice, her gaze locked on the point of light far across the dark water. Words from behind released her from the spell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Miss Emma, you’ll catch your death if you don’t get in this house. You know it’s way past your bedtime.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“It’s dry beneath the overhang, and I’m not the least bit sleepy. The storm’s blowing in and I’m watching that strange light out there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Pearl Johnson opened the screen door and joined Emma Fitzgerald on the porch, shivering when thunder rumbled the rafters. She shielded her eyes from some imagined glare and stared in the direction Emma had pointed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I don’t see nothing, Miss Emma.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Then I guess you scared it away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Pearl frowned and shook her big head. “Come on inside. You been brooding out here since dinner and it’s getting late.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Emma glanced at her watch’s luminous dial. “Then why are you still here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Cause you’re distressing me the way you’re acting.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Worry lines on Emma’s face softened into a smile. She stood up from the rocking chair and wrapped her rangy arms around the big woman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Don’t fret over me. I’m too old and ornery to let anything get me down very long; least of all a man. Now you run on home to Raymond before the bottom drops out and drenches that pretty yellow dress of yours.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You sure?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Emma pushed Pearl toward the door, waiting until she’d opened the screen and stepped outside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Sure as this old lake’s got twelve-foot alligators. Now get on home with you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Pearl started to say something. Shaking her head instead, she hurried down the stairs. More thunder shook the rafters as she lumbered toward her own house on the far side of the clearing. Emma settled back into the rocking chair and draped a frayed orange Afghan over her knees. This time the meow of a striped kitten broke her trance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Tiger, you little rascal, don’t you know cats hate rain and thunder?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Tiger didn’t seem to mind the rain, curling up in Emma’s lap and closing his eyes. Pearl had gone in time as falling water swelled into a deafening deluge. The pouring rain pooled up on the roof, finally causing a waterfall to stream from the porch overhang. Emma watched the storm as Tiger ignored it with a contented purr. Neither moved until the tempest had passed, leaving behind hazy moonlight. Grabbing Tiger by the scruff, she carried him inside and deposited him on his kitty bed beside the stove.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Enough attention for one day, you little rascal,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Tiger nudged his toy mouse and then returned to contented sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Emma started for the stairs but stopped at the window, staring at the lake. Again, she saw it. The ephemeral glow of circular light had returned, hanging over the dark water. Wrapping the Afghan around her shoulders, she headed for the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The hoot of an owl sounded from the distance as Emma followed the mushy path past the boat dock to the water’s edge. Vapor rose off the lake’s surface as she stopped beside a pile of brush and stared across the water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The rain had moved north, leaving only dancing shadows to frolic over the lake. When an alligator’s knotty head appeared ten feet from Emma’s muddy slippers, she ignored it. The floating light locked her gaze, growing brighter as it approached the bank. As it did, the surrounding mist chilled the muggy air around her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Emma’s dilated eyes soon made out the vague outline of a girl’s slender body. An apparition surrounded by veils of phosphorescence floating through the fog. Mesmerized, her sense of reality dimmed as the spirit girl approached. The apparition drew ever nearer, her translucent skin glowing. Even her eyes were colorless. Emma focused on something clutched in the spirit girl’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Please help me,” the spirit girl whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Emma reached for her hand. She succeeded only in passing her fingers through the damp mist as the spirit’s image began to wane. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, the girl had vanished. Her hand was damp and cold but no longer empty. The object in her hand emitted an eerie pink glow when she opened her palm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sounds of someone shoveling damp earth grabbed her attention. The beam of a powerful flashlight overpowered its misty incandescence. Squeezing the object in her hand, she decided to investigate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Murky shadows replaced moonlight as she followed a path through a maze of creepers and vines. She discovered the origin of the light in a small clearing. Leaning against a cypress trunk, she brushed gray hair from her eyes, gazing at a large hole in the ground. When a hand touched her shoulder, she wheeled around, realizing who was with her in the clearing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You scared me half to death. I told you to get the hell off my island and never come back.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Instead of an answer, she caught the brunt of a shovel across the back of her head. A chorus of bullfrogs began to sing as she toppled into the mire. Miss Emma Fitzgerald never heard them.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Chapter 2</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sheriff Taylor Wright stood knee-deep in shallow water, mopping his forehead with a red bandanna. Remnant humidity from last night’s rain sent rivulets of sweat down his neck, providing dive-bombing mosquitoes a tempting target. Something other than mosquitoes occupied his attention as he brushed the swarming creatures away with a subconscious swat. It was a body, already stiff with rigor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">He waited as Dave Roberts, the assistant medical examiner, and Deputy Sam Goodlake pulled the corpse toward shore. Raymond Johnson and his son Ray watched from the bank. When Roberts and Goodlake reached the shore with the body, Raymond Johnson fell to his knees and began to sob.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“It’s Emma all right,” Dave Roberts said. “Been dead a good ten hours, I’d say.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sheriff Wright pushed Raymond away from the body, turning him toward the lodge. “Ray, take your daddy back to the house. Nothing either of you can do here now. I’ll be along directly to ask a few questions.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">When Raymond resisted the sheriff’s advice, Ray took his father’s elbow, gently directing him away from the lifeless body of Emma Fitzgerald. Dr. Tom Proctor, the coroner, and chief medical examiner nudged the corpse with the toe of his boot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Looks like Emma got herself tangled in a trotline. Maybe drowned. Her nigrahs seem mighty distraught.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What was she doing out in the lake in the middle of a storm?” asked Sam Goodlake, the lanky deputy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Good question,” Sheriff Wright said, bending over the body. “Anyone got an answer?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“She’s holding something,” Dave Roberts said, ignoring Wright’s query as he struggled with Emma’s frozen fingers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">They watched Dave Roberts pry open her hand, revealing a crusty piece of jewelry. After palming it once, he handed it to the sheriff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What is it?” Goodlake asked, craning his long neck for a better view.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Looks like a cameo brooch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sheriff Wright fingered the old brooch, caressing its alabaster edges as Roberts took photos of the body and surrounding area. Something behind Emma’s ear caught the sheriff’s attention. Using both hands, he gently canted the old woman’s chin, brushing aside her salt and pepper hair to expose caked blood that had oozed from a swollen contusion on the back of her head. After a careful rotation, he rested the old woman’s head in soft earth, and then slipped the brooch into his khaki shirt, giving the body one last look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Sam, check the lakefront for evidence. I’m taking a little walk down to the lodge to question Pearl and Raymond.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sam had already begun helping Dave Roberts stuff Emma’s body into a rubber bag and didn’t bother replying to Wright’s request. A motorboat with a two-stroke engine droned across the lake, causing dozens of turtles to abandon their perches and splash into the water. The commotion failed to interrupt Sheriff Wright’s long stride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Fitzgerald Lodge loomed in the distance, about a hundred yards from the lake’s edge. Backed by pine and live oak, the rustic abode formed an imposing edifice, dwarfing all other structures and outbuildings on the island. The once active resort had declined in recent years to little more than a worn and neglected fishing camp for locals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Before her untimely demise, Emma Fitzgerald had planned to change all that. Sheriff Wright recognized the woeful cry of Pearl Johnson as he entered the door, knowing long before seeing her how distraught she must be. He followed her whimpers to Emma’s office at the end of a long hallway. There he found her and husband Raymond, along with Randy Rummels, a local attorney.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You all right, Pearl?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">She wiped her mouth and nose with a paper napkin, blinking away her tears. “No sir, sheriff, I ain’t. I still can’t believe Miss Emma’s really dead. I should have hung around last night, knowing how blue she was.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Taylor scrawled Pearl’s remark in a notebook he carried in the pocket of his Western-cut khaki shirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Wasn’t your fault.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Raymond banged the big oak desk with his formidable fist. “Miss Emma wouldn’t have gone out in no storm.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Calm yourself down. I’m sure no one carried her there,” Sheriff Wright said. “There’s one big bump on the back of her head. Maybe a limb blew down in the wind and knocked her into the lake. Who saw her alive last?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Guess it was me,” Pearl said. “I went home last night about ten. About the time the storm hit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What were you doing here so late?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Miss Emma was brooding, and I didn’t want to leave her alone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Taylor Wright turned a chair around, straddled it and rested his arms on the backrest. “Brooding about what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Bones Malone. They had an argument, and Miss Emma told him to pack his stuff and move off the island. He left without even bothering to take his things.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sheriff Wright digested this tidbit of information. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him around lately. Know where he is, or what they were arguing about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Raymond and Pearl exchanged perplexed glances. Pearl said, “Whatever it was, Miss Emma took it pretty hard.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You think Bones is involved in Emma’s death?” Wright asked, removing his hat to scratch his bald spot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Why hell no,” Raymond said, turning away from the sheriff’s stare and gazing at the hardwood floor. “Maybe they had a little argument. Don’t matter none because I know Bones Malone loved that old lady.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Maybe so, but you said yourself Miss Emma wouldn’t have wandered down to the lake in a thunderstorm, no matter how upset she was.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“She was getting along in age,” Randy Rummels said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Eighty,” Raymond said. “And still sharp as any twenty-year-old.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sheriff Wright tapped the back of the chair twice, rearranged the hat atop his head, stood and leaned against one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What are you doing here, Randy?” he asked. “Smell a healthy legal fee all the way from town?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rummels brushed aside Sheriff Wright’s professional slur without protest. “How you doing, Sheriff? Guess you know Daddy was Miss Emma’s lawyer. I’m discussing her estate with Pearl and Raymond. Emma died intestate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You’re full of shit,” Raymond said. “Miss Emma’s had a will for years. I saw it, and so did Pearl. You know it’s true because your daddy wrote it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Randy Rummels shook his head. “I’m Emma Fitzgerald’s attorney now, and I’m telling you, she never had a will.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Your father was Miss Emma’s lawyer,” Pearl said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Well Daddy’s dead, and nothing ever went on in that firm that I don’t know about. Believe me, Emma died intestate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Raymond’s glare left no doubt of his emotional frame of mind or his feelings about Rummels’ statement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You’re a liar.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Who you calling a liar?” Rummels said, jumping to his feet and standing eyeball to eyeball with the larger black man. “You two are just trying to horn in where you don’t belong.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Wait just a minute here,” Sheriff Wright said, stepping between the two men. “What difference does it make anyway?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Because Miss Emma’s will deeds us half the marina,” Pearl said.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Miss Emma couldn’t run it by herself,” Raymond added. “Or afford to pay much in the way of wages. She made up for it by willing us half the marina when she died.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You’re dreaming,” Rummels said. “There’s no record of any such transaction.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rummels’ declaration was more than Raymond could take. Clinching his hand, he lunged across the desk at the young lawyer. Sheriff Wright interceded again, this time grabbing Raymond’s wrist and backing him up with a combination of arm strength and steely eye contact. Rummels sat down, apparently grateful for the sheriff’s timely intervention.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“The bank has a mortgage on all Emma’s real property. The island, marina, and lodge that is. With no heir and no will,” he said, “Everything left in Emma’s estate will be used to settle her debt with the bank. I got no ax to grind with the Johnsons here. I’d as soon they got the place as have it go to the bank.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You’re crazy as hell,” Raymond said. “Miss Emma never borrowed a penny in her life. She don’t owe the bank nothing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“We have her signature to prove she does,” Rummels said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sheriff Wright glanced at Pearl and Raymond, not letting his glimpse linger. “So what happens to Raymond and Pearl?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Nothing,” Rummels said. “They simply vacate the premises.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“We’ve lived here thirty years,” Pearl said. “Miss Emma sold us the house we live in and the yard around it. She filed the deed at the courthouse in Deception and left a copy in her safety deposit box.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rummels simply shook his head. “No deed, no record of a deed, no way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Talk of the marina had propelled Raymond into a rapidly disintegrating emotional state. Rocking side to side, he said, “We don’t want a damn thing that ain’t coming to us. Miss Emma didn’t intend to leave Fitzgerald Island to the Bank of Deception. Check it out at the courthouse, and you’ll see we ain’t lying.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Never trust a white man,” Randy Rummels said with a smirk. “Or in this case, a white woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sheriff Wright frowned at Rummels and pointed toward the door. “Why don’t you get the hell out of here? You’re just causing trouble.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Not until I finish my business.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“It’s finished,” Wright said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Randy Rummels didn’t miss the angry inflection in Sheriff Wright’s voice. Realizing he was already pushing his luck, he folded his portfolio and started for the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Fine. You straighten it out with these people.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Watch your tone, Randy,” Wright said. “These people took care of Emma for thirty years and deserve a little respect.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“The only thing they deserve is a quick trip off the island. I don’t make the rules. I just see they’re carried out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Taylor Wright’s own adrenaline was pumping, as was that of young Rummels’. Neither reacted immediately to Pearl’s words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Maybe Miss Emma’s heir can settle the bank debt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rummels glanced first at Pearl, then at Wright. “What did you say?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I said Miss Emma has an heir.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“There’s no indication of that,” Rummels said, slamming his portfolio back on the desktop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Yes, there is,” Pearl said. “Miss Emma has a nephew in Oklahoma.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Says who?” Rummels said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Pearl opened the top drawer of the desk, took out an opened letter, and handed it to Rummels. After removing the contents slowly, the lawyer made a big production of reading it. When he finished, Sheriff Taylor Wright took it from him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What’s this all about?” he asked after glancing at the letter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Miss Emma received it about a week ago and couldn’t wait to call the man who sent it. Seems he’s a private investigator in Oklahoma. A young man raised in foster homes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Already sounds bogus to me,” Rummels said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“It’s the truth,” Pearl said. “When Miss Emma talked with the man on the phone, he told her he could prove he was her nephew.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’ll believe it when I see his proof,” Rummels said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What happens until then?” Wright said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Not a damn thing.” Rummels turned before reaching the door. Pointing his finger at Raymond, he said, “Until this matter is assessed, don’t run off with anything on this island. Sheriff, I’m holding you responsible.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sheriff Wright waited for the front door to slam before handing the letter to Pearl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What’s this all about? Emma had no family I know of, and I’ve lived here all my life. Where did this long lost nephew come from?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Miss Emma’s wandering brother,” Pearl said. “He had a son while traipsing around the oil patch up in Oklahoma.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You think this man is Emma’s nephew and can prove it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Pearl lowered her eyes. “Don’t really know, Sheriff Taylor. I just made that part up because that little weasel Rummels made me so mad. The rest is true, though.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Could just be a scam artist that sees an opportunity to cut a fat hog. P.I.s search for lost heirs all the time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“We don’t know nothing about that,” Raymond said. “I do know Miss Emma thought he was for real. She was going to call Randy Rummels to change her will.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Randy says there is no will. Never was one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Uh huh,” Raymond said as he stalked out of the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Wright tapped the desktop twice before following him. Halfway into the hall he turned and scratched his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Why would Rummels destroy Emma’s will and let the bank take her property instead of letting you two have a shot at it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You’re the sheriff,” Pearl said. “You tell us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sheriff Taylor Wright tipped his hat. “I’ll check it out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You’ll get your chance, Sheriff. Miss Emma’s nephew is on his way to Texas. James T. McDivit should be here any minute. When he arrives, you can check him out for yourself.”</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Chapter 3</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">James T. “Buck” McDivit had come to Texas for answers. What he found was a giant lake amid a maze of vines, creepers and lily pads; a place that seemed more like Louisiana than Texas. He quickly realized it was different from both states.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Cypress trees grew in abundance, both in the water and out, and Spanish moss, wafting in slow-motion waves, hung from their limbs, caressing the lake’s coffee-colored surface. Only the head of a slow-swimming snake disrupted the lake’s tranquility.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">East Texas was a place far different from Buck’s own home on the rolling hills of central Oklahoma. This mysterious locale seemed more like a virtual botanical garden replete with subtropical greenery and a climate to match. He felt a thousand miles from home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Interstate highway, replaced by rural Texas blacktop, had long since disappeared in his rearview mirror. Untended hollyhocks, blooming in lavender flower falls that saturated humid air with their cloying fragrances grew wild beside the road. Damp pathways, none leading anywhere in particular, pierced the tangle of vegetation as a flock of cattle egrets winged high overhead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Egrets weren’t the only wildlife in abundance, nor were oak, cypress, and Hollyhock the only plants bordering the road. Cascades of blue impatiens, crimson-blossomed rosebushes, and clumps of green willow painted the terrain from a diverse palette of color. When a trucker blew his horn, waving an angry fist as he sped past, Buck realized he had slowed to less than twenty miles an hour. Taking the warning to heart, he pressed the accelerator and followed him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Dense vegetation parted as he rounded the next bend. It left him little time to worry about the angry trucker and prevented him from further gawking at the birds and wildflowers. In front of him lay a sleepy Victorian village dwarfed by the mammoth lake. Buck quickly realized Deception, Texas was the literal end of the road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Deception, once a riverboat stop along the way between New Orleans and Jefferson, was situated many secluded miles from the nearest Interstate highway. The old riverboat port had managed to preserve much of its antebellum flavor. Many buildings, some with ornate decks jutting out over the water, still fronted the lake. Tourists wandered the narrow streets, gazing at storefront displays or licking Sno-cones purchased from vendors vying for space in the town square. Buck parked his Ramcharger and stepped out for a better look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Near a little park fronting the lake, Buck discovered everything wasn’t old. Bulldozers and heavy equipment were at work clearing trees and leveling dirt. Someone was building something large and incongruous with the sleepy village and had already cut a large brown swath across the flourishing sea of green.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">He completed a quick swing through Deception before returning to his truck and driving to the rear of the Pelican Restaurant. An attorney awaited inside the Pelican to discuss his late aunt’s estate. Their recent telephone conversation had left Buck leery about their impending meeting and little doubt that the attorney considered him a money-seeking opportunist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Afternoon shadows had begun draping the village as gray clouds formed out over the lake. The back of the restaurant seemed unexceptional except for the stacks of fish traps and piles of gill netting strewn across the ground. As he scanned the area, someone came crashing through the screen door. The disruption ended his thoughts about his meeting with the attorney.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">A man that looked big enough to take care of himself tumbled across the loading dock, slamming headfirst into a packing crate. Lying in a daze, he rubbed his head as two men piled out the door after him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Get your black ass out of here,” the first attacker said, delivering a vicious kick to the fallen man’s ribs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The big man managed to roll off the dock and crawl on his hands and knees to shelter behind a broken fish trap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Next time use the back door,” the second attacker said. “Our customers don’t want no stinking niggah shuffling past their tables while they’re trying to eat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The two men halted their attack but stood at the door, glaring at the black man on his knees below them. The taller of the two was bone thin with scraggly hair capping his acne-scarred face. His shorter partner, whose diminutive height probably resulted from some congenital deformity, was anything but thin. He stood hunched over in a permanent crouch, a large hump crowning his twisted back. Neither man would have had much luck in a beauty contest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Buck could tell by their attitudes they probably liked it that way. He waited until they’d slammed the door behind them before helping the big man to his feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Take more than those two to get the best of ol’ Raymond Johnson,” the man said, dusting himself off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Looks to me like they did a pretty good job.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“They got the drop on me when my back was turned,” Raymond Johnson said, rubbing his jaw.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Take it easy big fellow and next time watch your back,” Buck said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">He quickly forgot the incident and strolled to the front of the restaurant. Daylight was waning, but the cobbled parking lot continued radiating heat absorbed from late afternoon sun. He found it cooler inside, frigid air chilling the perspiration on his forehead as he opened the restaurant door. Wiping his face with his handkerchief, he greeted the hostess waiting in the entryway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’m meeting a man named Rummels,” Buck said. “Know if he’s here yet?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The young woman was dressed in a colorful period costume. Antebellum, he guessed. She had a friendly smile, a red bow in her hair, and made him feel welcome. The woman’s warm smile was no accident. Buck McDivit was young, tall, and good-looking, with the body of a trained athlete and piercing blue eyes of a movie star. Dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, and western-cut shirt, he could have passed as a young John Wayne.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Mister Rummels just phoned,” she said, quickly flipping through the guest register on the entryway lectern. “I’ll seat you, and you can wait for him in the dining area.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">She led Buck into the main dining room where potted ferns hung in garlands from rough-hewn rafters. Checkerboard tablecloths draped wooden tables, and the restaurant’s rustic decor blended perfectly with the aroma of frying cornmeal floating in from the kitchen. An outside veranda flanked the room on three sides. A damp breeze moved along by slow-moving ceiling fans, wafted in through the open door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Enjoy your dinner,” she said, seating him at a corner table overlooking the lake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Buck barely had time to adjust his chair and stare out at the darkening sky before a waitress appeared and asked him what he wanted to drink. Her red bow went well with a thick thatch of black hair and her own colorful period dress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">She smiled when he said, “Coors, please and keep the frosted mug.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Buck had finished his beer before Raymond Rummels arrived. Rummels was wearing dark pinstripes, despite the oppressive outside heat, and a constipated smile. He looked about thirty, trying to pass for fifty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You James T. McDivit?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“One in the same,” Buck said, reaching to shake the young lawyer’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rummels joined him at the table, not bothering to thank their waitress when she brought him a Manhattan, and Buck another Coors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Catfish is the specialty of the house,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Buck gave the young woman a thumb up and said, “Sounds good to me.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rummels dismissed her with a dispassionate nod. “I’ll come right to the point, McDivit. I’m unaware of any heirs to the Emma Fitzgerald estate. She had no children, adopted or otherwise. Her only brother died years ago in an oil field accident in Oklahoma. To my knowledge, he had no children.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“He had one,” Buck said. “Me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Then why is there no record of his marriage, or your birth?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Because he never married. He carried on for a while with a teenage girl, my mother, and I was the result. The family forced her to give me up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Why didn’t you come forward before now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I didn’t know I had any relatives until recently. I’m a private investigator in Oklahoma City. While reviewing some public records for a client, I came across a newspaper article that got me thinking about my own roots. Once I decided to track down my parents, the rest was easy. John McDivit was definitely my father.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Can you prove it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Buck handed Rummels a package of information and waited as he pawed through it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What is all this?” the lawyer asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Birth certificate, eye-witness accounts, and a statement from my mother. She had pictures, some belongings, and even John McDivit’s medical records. There’s no doubt I’m his son and that he was the younger brother of Emma Fitzgerald.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“These could be forgeries.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“They’re not.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“How do I know that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You’d believe a federal judge, wouldn’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The hint of a snicker appeared on Rummels’ face but vanished just as quickly. “You bring one with you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“No, but I have this affidavit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Buck handed Rummels a letter his old friend Judge Beamon Dawkins had written for him before leaving Oklahoma. In it, Judge Beamon attested to Buck’s good word and the authenticity of the documents he’d presented the lawyer. Rummels held the letter long enough to read it three times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Excuse me a moment,” he finally said, hurrying away from the table without explanation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Remnant daylight had all but disappeared, replaced now by intermittent lightning that veined the sky over the lake. Thunder, shaking the roof and windows, soon followed, causing the lights to dim. Rummels rejoined Buck at the table.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Assuming your papers are in order and you inherit Emma Fitzgerald’s estate, what exactly do you intend to do with it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Don’t know,” Buck said. “It was never my intention to stake out my aunt’s estate. I only wanted to meet the old lady and discuss my father’s family with her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Then you deny your inheritance?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Didn’t say that. What exactly is my inheritance?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rummels cleared his throat, finished his Manhattan, and waved for another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Emma Fitzgerald’s estate consists of an island on Caddo Lake and everything on it. She has some money in the bank. Just enough to pay for the probate.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What about the island?” Buck asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Emma Fitzgerald operated a lodge and fishing camp, discontinuing lodge service about four years ago. Though the marina is still operable, there are a couple of problems, Mr. McDivit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Such as?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Emma Fitzgerald borrowed money from the bank last year to remodel the lodge and marina. She put up the island as collateral. Emma failed to make a payment on the note for the last six months, and the bank had begun foreclosure proceedings before her death. The hearing is in ten days. If you want to prevent the foreclosure, you have ten days to repay the bank loan, along with court costs and accumulated attorney fees.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“That’s not much notice. You mentioned a second problem.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rummels rustled his yellow pad, leaning forward in his chair. “They found Emma Fitzgerald floating in the lake. Pearl Johnson, her housekeeper, says she was despondent. The coroner considered that and ruled her death a suicide. I’m afraid that nullifies Emma’s life insurance.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“No one said anything to me about life insurance or suicide.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’m sorry,” he said. “When they found Emma, she had something in her hand,” Rummels dropped a crusted cameo brooch into Buck’s open palm. “Depression sometimes takes people to the edge. In Emma’s case, it sent her over the edge.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Nearby thunder shook the rafters followed by slow rain drumming the roof and windows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rummels brow furrowed when Buck asked, “What if I pay off the note?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Well, of course, you have that option. Is that your plan?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Buck had neither assets nor collateral to satisfy Aunt Emma’s note. Rummels didn’t know that. Tapping his chin as if he were considering it, he said, “Don’t know yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Pardon me a moment,” Rummels said. He returned shortly with another man. “This is Mr. Hogg Nation. He owns the Pelican.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The distinguished gentleman with the odd name had green eyes, short hair, and specks of white frosting his head. Despite his hair color, his face proclaimed him no older than forty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“At your disposal, Mr. McDivit. Hope you’re enjoying our hospitality. Your meal and drinks are on the house tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Buck managed a nod and half smile. Raymond Rummels was wringing his hands, his own expression having turned sour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Mr. Nation is also my client. He wishes to purchase Fitzgerald Island from you. Two-hundred thousand dollars is a generous offer, Mr. McDivit. Enough to pay the bank note and leave twenty-five thousand for your troubles.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Nation’s proposal caught Buck by surprise. When he finally managed a reply, he said, “Thanks, but I’d like to visit the island before I decide.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Take your time and enjoy the catfish,” Nation said, moving away toward the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Randy Rummels remained standing until his client had departed, the waitress arriving with a bell-shaped glass filled with an icy concoction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Mr. Nation would like you to try a Hurricane. It’s the house specialty.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">She winked and hurried away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">It was raining harder now, water beading down the picture window in soft sheets. Buck sipped the sugary drink. Rain and alcohol had all but hypnotized him when a familiar high-pitched voice returned his attention to the restaurant. Staring across the crowded room, he spotted the two men involved in the incident behind the restaurant. They were drinking and talking loudly, even above the din of the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Who are those two men?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rummels was chewing on the straw of his Manhattan. “Humpback and Deacon John,” he said. “They work for Mr. Nation.” Before Buck could inquire further, the lawyer glanced at his watch. “I have another appointment. Raymond Johnson, an employee of the marina on Fitzgerald Island, will pick you up shortly and take you there.” Handing Buck his business card, he said, “You have ten days to make up your mind.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Thunder shook the roof as Randy Rummels tapped the back of his chair and started away. Buck wondered, as the lawyer departed, why the man’s crooked grin gave him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his gut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The friendly waitress soon appeared with hush puppies, catfish, and another hurricane. Buck handed her his empty glass and took a quick gulp from the fresh drink. The spicy catfish tasted wonderful and whetted his growing thirst. He was feeling light-headed when the waitress appeared for the final time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Raymond Johnson is waiting for you on the back porch,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Thanks,” he said, stumbling when he tried to get out of the chair. “Which way?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">She pointed him to the back door. He was surprised when he realized the person waiting for him was the large black man involved in the scuffle behind the restaurant. Before he could ponder the coincidence, he caught his foot on a net and tumbled into the big man’s outstretched arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Have yourself a little too much of Mr. Nation’s hospitality?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Guess I did. Was that you that got yourself kicked out the door a little earlier?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Mr. Nation’s boys,” he said without explanation. “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Raymond Johnson. You Mr. McDivit?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Buck.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Johnson stared at Buck McDivit’s extended hand and finally shook it. “If you ain’t through eating yet, I’ll wait out here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’m done,” Buck said, unable to stifle a drunken giggle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Good. Don’t need no more trouble tonight. Let’s get out of here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Concurring with Johnson, Buck followed him off the porch. By now, his head was swimming. His vision was blurry, and tongue thick.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Where’s your car?” Raymond asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Truck’s in the back.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The big black man grabbed Buck, supporting his weight and ignoring his helpless giggles. Raymond left him on the steps while he retrieved his suitcase from the truck. The rain had slackened as he herded him and his bag down the slope to the lake where a gentle breeze was blowing across the water. It caused the boat, and Buck’s head on the side of the boat, to rock with the waves. Raymond Johnson untied the bowline and pushed away from the dock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Couple of miles to the island,” he said, maneuvering through a stand of cypress trees surrounding the shadow-dark shoreline. “You okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Buck answered with a giddy laugh. “I think someone spiked my drink.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Sure they did,” Johnson said as the high-pitched outboard motor drowned out Buck’s slurred words and any further attempt at conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">As the boat glided across the rain-dimpled water, Buck closed his eyes, his mind awash with flickering moonbeams splaying the lake’s murky surface. Half an hour later, they landed on the island. When they reached a large two-storied house, Raymond Johnson dragged him upstairs and dumped him on a feather bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The suitcase made a hollow thump when it hit the floor, the door shutting behind Raymond as he exited with a damp swoosh. Locked in a drunken stupor, Buck didn’t really care.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">He lay there for what seemed like hours, mesmerized by slow rain drumming the tin roof as he stared at the ceiling’s darkness. He finally stumbled out of bed, hoping to find an aspirin for his throbbing head. Unable to locate the lights or an appropriate pill, he embarked instead on a late-night tour of the house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Moonlight through open windows guided him back down the stairs where he found a liquor cabinet amid stormy shadows and resident gloom. What the hell, he thought. A little hair of the dog couldn’t make him feel any worse than he already did. Shattering one of the bottles in an eruption of flying glass, the ensuing explosion failed to deter him. Slugging whiskey straight from an unbroken bottle, he headed down a dark hallway, glassy shards crunching beneath his boots.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Buck stumbled through the house, finally finding a door that led outside. Soft rain continued falling, a few rays of moonlight penetrating the cover of clouds. Reflections off the lake beckoned. Wobbling toward the water’s edge, he dribbled whiskey from his open mouth and down his neck, and then howled at the moon. When he reached the lake, he tripped on a cypress knee, tumbling into the mud. Revived by the dank odor of warm rain and rotting vegetation, he watched dull light radiate from a pinpoint across the lake. This time it wasn’t the moon. Even after rubbing his eyes, he couldn’t make it disappear. Instead, it grew larger, drawing ever closer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sitting in the mud, too stunned to move, he swayed as the vague outline of a veil shrouded apparition floated toward him. He bit his lip, pain failing to convince him he was coherent. When the apparition stopped directly in front of him, he could see it was a girl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">A translucent shawl clung to her thin frame, icy mist drifting around her shoulders, chilling warm night air. Tears flowed down her cheeks. When she reached out to him, his neck grew inexplicably warm. Aunt Emma’s brooch in his hand began pulsating with pink light as the translucent body of the ghostly vision gleamed brightly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">He blinked, opening his eyes to see the girl had disappeared, leaving him unsure of what he’d seen. Still very much inebriated, he managed to stumble back to the lodge where he passed out before hitting the sheets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-79667779118025517072018-09-26T23:07:00.001-05:002018-11-25T23:53:59.395-06:00River Road - an excerpt<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> New Orleans is perhaps the only place on earth where a deceased person can attend his or her own wake as the guest of honor. In River Road, sleuth Wyatt Thomas attends one such wake at the Saenger Theater on Canal Street. My first memory of the theater was when I was ten. My brother and I were visiting our Aunt Carmol for a week or so. She dropped Jack and me off there to see David Niven in <i>Around the World in 80 Days</i>. The theater, newly renovated after Hurricane Katrina, is a showplace destination and I remember comparing it in my mind to the tiny Wakea Theater in the little town of Vivian, Louisiana where I grew up. To my ten-year-old brain, the Saenger was like a palace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">In River Road, Wyatt attends an eclectic wake, even by New Orleans' standards, at the behest of a new client. The secretive little man gives Wyatt a single clue and a bag of cash. The man is murdered as Wyatt watches. Before the night ends, he must go on the run to save his own life and to comply with his client's last wish.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">River Road takes the reader to places a tourist in New Orleans will likely never see. The story is based on historical accounts of an actual murder that remains unsolved. Much of the book is a fictional recounting of what actually happened in New Orleans shortly after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Though I don't profess to have all the answers to the many questions about that particular time in the history of New Orleans, I did draw a conclusion about who actually killed the president. In a later chapter in the book, one of the characters on her deathbed explains who killed <span style="font-size: x-small;">JFK</span> and why they did it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">I hope this short excerpt compels you to read </span><a href="http://amzn.to/1s02d11" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">River Road</a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">. If you do, I hope you love it and all the books in my </span><a href="https://amzn.to/2rC4FNp" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">French Quarter Mystery Series</a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Some of the mental images in the book may haunt you for awhile. The monkey lab actually existed and the thought of the empty cages remains indelibly fixed in my own memory. The story isn't all dour. There's also lots of mystery, adventure, and fun. Just don't forget to wear your gris gris.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Chapter 1</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">It was one of those days, rain falling in a gentle mist as I glanced down Canal Street. When thunder shook the windowpanes, I stopped gawking and hurried up the sidewalk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Late afternoon streets were empty as I reached the Saenger Theater. The old auditorium had occupied the corner of Canal and <span style="font-size: x-small;">N.</span> Rampart for as long as I could remember. My parents liked their liquor. They could buy cocktails at the balcony bar and get drunk as they watched the latest Hollywood flick. They loved the Saenger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Flooded and damaged during Katrina, the theater had recently undergone renovation. With work finally completed, the facility is a destination for music and touring acts. The marvelous new sign over the front entrance greeted me, flashing crimson neon as I entered the lobby.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I wasn’t the only one that had braved summer rain, dozens of other people filing into the main amphitheater with me. Music from an old pipe organ flooded the auditorium as I entered the ongoing festivities. The occasion was a wake, the atmosphere anything but somber. As I gazed at the crowd, I spotted someone I knew.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rafael Romanov smiled and worked his way toward me. The tall man with thinning hair seemed as dark and mysterious as his hooked nose and Eastern European face. He’d grown a tiny goatee on his pointed chin since the last time I’d seen him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Wyatt,” he said, grasping my hand. “You’re looking dapper.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Don’t hold a candle to you, Rafael,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">He brushed an imaginary flake off his cashmere sports coat. His expensive jacket complimented the military crease of his dark pants and the gleam of his spit-polished shoes. His light blue silk shirt splayed open enough to draw attention to a hairy chest and the heavy gold chain around his neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I didn’t know you knew Jeribeth,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Jeribeth Briggs was a recently deceased New Orleans socialite. Unlike most wakes, Jeribeth wasn’t in a coffin. Her corpse, dressed to the nines in a red designer dress and audacious hat, sat on a wrought-iron bench. Her signature feather boa draped her shoulders. As in life, she had a cigarette with a long filter in one hand, a glass of Jack Daniels in the other. Garlands of flowers and lush potted shrubs surrounded her almost as if she were enjoying cocktails in her garden.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Didn’t know her,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Just gawking?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I have reasons for being here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Such as?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“A new client. He requested I meet him at the wake.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Strange place to meet a client,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“His call, not mine. Did you know her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You mean Jeribeth? Saw her many times at Madeline’s when I was a child. Like you, someone is paying me to be here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Oh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“My usual gig. Comforting family and friends of the bereaved. From the quantity of alcohol everyone is consuming, I’d say my services will go unneeded.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rafael was a defrocked priest; defrocked because his mother Madeline is a witch. As the saying goes, once a priest always a priest. Since leaving the church, he’d served as a rent a priest aboard a cruise ship sailing out of New Orleans. Like most of the other guests crowding the auditorium, he had a drink in hand and a smile on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The Saenger Theater auditorium is large, its walls decorated to mimic an Italian villa. Priceless chandeliers hang from the ceiling. The crowd included actors, politicians, musicians, and many of the city's richest people. Human chatter didn't begin to overwhelm the background music. The acoustics were so acute you could hear every musical instrument while eavesdropping on your neighbor's conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Now this is the way to have a wake,” Rafael said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Wildest thing I’ve ever seen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“It’s the Big Easy, Cowboy, not the real world.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">His smile disappeared when I said, “Not sad like Kimmi’s wake.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">My ex-wife Kimmi had married Rafael. When she died, we’d met at her wake and had maintained a friendship ever since.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Mind if I change the subject?” he said, sipping his whiskey. “See the attractive woman by the punch bowl?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Gorgeous. How do I know her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Lucy Diamond. A reporter for Fox. National, not local.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Bet she gets lots of jokes about her name.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“From her frown, I don’t think I’d ask,” he said. “Want to meet her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You know her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“We met on one of my cruises, and we've kept in touch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rafael waved, catching the reporter’s gaze. Smiling, she made her way through the noisy throng.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Rafael,” she said, on her tiptoes to plant a sensuous kiss on his lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Lucy, this is my friend Wyatt Thomas.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">She nodded, acknowledging my presence with only a frown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Got to rush, Rafe. Can we do lunch while I’m in town?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Love it, beautiful lady,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’ll call you,” she said, kissing him before disappearing back into the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Rafe?” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Rafael grinned. “What can I say? She has a thing for tall, dark, and mysterious men.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’m jealous. What’s she doing in New Orleans?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Working on a sensational story; something to do with Jeribeth and Dr. Mary Taggert.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Oh?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“The old lady had a few skeletons in her closet. She was best friends with Dr. Taggert.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“How do I know that name?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“A prominent surgeon murdered fifty years ago. The case was never solved.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I wasn’t alive, but remember hearing about it. Doing cancer research, wasn’t she?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Along with Dr. Louis Hollingsworth, the founder of the Hollingsworth Clinic. Someone wrote a book saying the <span style="font-size: x-small;">C.I.A.</span> had a hand in the murder,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What interest did they have in her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Not sure, my friend. Something to do with the Kennedy assassination.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I must have rolled my eyes because Raphael held up a palm, smiled and shook his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“It's hard to separate fact from fiction because there are so many conspiracy theories floating around out there,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Don’t know about that. What I do know is Madeline used to hold séances at our house when I was young. Jeribeth and Doctor Mary often attended.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What’s your mother told you about it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Madeline never discusses her clients, even with me. If you want to know something about Dr. Mary, Lucy is the person to ask.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">As with Rafael, the Catholic Church had also expelled Madeline. Her heresy was being a witch. She has a shop in the Quarter called Madeline’s Magic Potions. By all accounts, she is a witch. When Rafael grabbed another drink from a passing waiter, I glanced at the punchbowl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’ll keep that in mind. Has Ms. Diamond told you anything?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Not much, even though we had drinks last night at the Carousel Bar.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Sweet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I wish. Lucy’s there every night, usually drinking alone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Not even with her crew?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Hardly. They’re staying at the Sheraton.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Because?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Lucy’s a bitch!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I see,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Razor tongued, and she uses her words like blunt instruments. Her producers have an impossible task enticing celebs and politicians. She has rough edges, but her viewers love it when she unloads on her guests.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“So she’s . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Bitch personified,” he said, finishing my question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Jazz music had grown louder. I glanced at the punchbowl again, realizing I was the only one without a drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Excuse me a moment?” I said. “I need to visit the punchbowl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’ll be here when you return.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I think you’re right about having no consoling to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">He nodded, hoisting his whiskey glass in a salute. “I ain’t complaining, boss.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The crowd had grown. As I inched toward the punch bowl, a young woman in front of me caught a heel and almost fell. When I grabbed her shoulders, she nodded before moving away into the throng.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">From the spread on the table, some lucky caterer had earned a fat payday for this gig. They weren’t the only ones. Local florists had also made out like bandits. I noticed as I sidestepped a potted peace lily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Smelling the gumbo, I remembered I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Piles of shrimp and crawfish rested on sheets of yesterday’s Picayune. In deference to my white jacket, I decided to pass on the food.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">No one had touched the grape punch. Likely because it wasn’t yet spiked with alcohol. Since I have a low tolerance for anything alcoholic, I took a sip first to make sure. When I turned, I bumped the person standing behind me. Grape punch splattered the woman’s silk blouse, the growing stain spreading across her chest like a bloody wound. It was the Fox reporter Lucy Diamond.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You idiot!” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’m so sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Back off, you moron. Do you have any idea how much this blouse cost me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Is there anything I can do?” I said as she pushed away through the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Yeah, drop dead!” she said, showing me her middle finger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">People were staring at me as if I were a serial killer. I slunk away in shame to a corner of the amphitheater vacant of guests. When I backed against a potted tree, someone tapped my shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Don’t turn around,” a man’s voice said. “I told you to come alone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I did. I bumped into a friend.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Nothing we can do about it now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You’re the person that asked me to meet them here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Yes,” he said. “I got a job for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What exactly are you hiring me to do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You’ve heard of Mary Taggert?” When I nodded, he said, “My mother. Everybody in New Orleans knows someone murdered her. I want you to find the killer, and then make sure everyone in town knows his name.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“The case is fifty years old. It’s not just cold; it’s frozen solid.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">He placed an envelope in my hand. “You’re my last hope. There’s information in the envelope and a large retainer. Can I trust you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Hope so. Not much I can do about it now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The man turned me until I faced the potted palms, my mind blocking sounds of the noisy wake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“At least tell me something to get me started,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Check the envelope and you’ll know everything I know. Now, give me five minutes before turning around.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Wait . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Don’t turn. Trust me; it’s for your own good.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I wheeled around the moment I heard his feet begin to shuffle. He was too busy elbowing his way through the crowd to notice. I followed the balding little man in white socks and an old checkered sports coat. It was dark outside as he hurried through the doorway. He broke into a run when he reached the sidewalk. It didn't take me long to realize why.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">A black sedan waited on the street outside the Saenger. It pulled away from the curb when he exited the front doors. Seeing the vehicle, he dodged traffic and sprinted across Canal Street. The sedan did a sliding u-turn, barely avoiding a streetcar returning from the cemeteries. When it screeched to a halt two Hispanic looking men exited, chasing my client up the sidewalk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Both men wore black sports coats and khaki pants. One of them tackled my new customer, sending him sliding across the concrete. The second pursuer tapped the back of his neck with a club. I raced across the street, dodging traffic as they dragged him into the awaiting car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Hey, stop right there!” I yelled as they shoved him into the backseat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">One of the men had a pistol, people on the sidewalk ducking as he pulled the trigger. Two muffled pops were the only thing I heard, and it was the last thing I remembered for a while.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Chapter 2<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I awoke in a strange bed, two people dressed in medical scrubs staring down at me. If that wasn’t enough to send my alarms blaring, a mule inside my head was trying to kick its way out. It was then I noticed the numbness in my left arm. The IV hanging above me was dripping fluid into my veins.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“How you doing?” the young man asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Where am I?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Hospital. Gunshot wound to your left shoulder. Luckily, the bullet didn’t strike bone. How’s your head?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“About to explode.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You banged it on the sidewalk when you fell. Mild concussion. You’ll feel better in a few days. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Though the doctor’s blond hair was thin, he didn't look old enough to shave. He had yet to smile. The nurse watched, flashing a silver-toothed grin as he disappeared into the darkened hallway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’m Claytee,” she said. “He’s such a baby. It makes me feel like spanking him sometimes.” When I glanced at the bandage on my shoulder, she said, “Don’t worry. It’s the Big Easy, and you’re not his first gunshot victim. You making it okay, hon?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I massaged my temple with my free hand. “I can’t feel my arm and there’s an angry mule inside my head.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">She grinned, her silver tooth catching the dim light cast by the medical instruments. “Time for a dose of cloud nine. You’ll feel better in a minute.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“How long have I been here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Don’t matter none. You alive, nothing broken or missing. Lots of my patients can’t say that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">After injecting me, she turned off the lights and left me alone in the hospital room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The only words I’d understood were “gunshot victim.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I needed to use the facilities and wheeled the IV cart with me. Before the bathroom door shut, a ruckus in the hall disturbed me. The commotion continued as I exited the bathroom. Cracking the door, I peeked down the darkened hallway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Something I’d heard piqued my curiosity. Familiar voices resonated down the hall. The same two men who were responsible for the bullet hole in my shoulder. They were asking the night nurse directions to my room. Shutting the door, I hurried to the bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I plumped pillows under the covers to resemble a sleeping man. The needle didn’t even hurt when I jerked it out of my arm, sticking it into the mattress. My clothes were hanging in a bathroom recess. Scooping them up, I rushed into the hallway, and then to a tiny break area across from my room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The smell of burned coffee hit me as I hid in the supply closet. Men entered my room, two muffled pops shaking my already fragile consciousness. I backed against the wall behind a rubber apron, my heart racing as I held my breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Shuffling feet entered the break room. Someone opened the door to the supply closet, peering in. It was then the alarm on my abandoned instruments began to blare. The door shut as night nurses and emergency doctors descended on my room. I pulled on my clothes, glanced down the empty hallway and hurried to the elevator.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Nurse Claytee’s cloud nine had rendered me numb. I noticed as I floated down the hall, my sense of well-being worrying me. Though feeling no pain, I realized the seriousness of two men trying to kill me. Emerging from the hospital, I almost expected to take a bullet in the back. It didn’t seem to matter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"> Outside, the sky was dark. I recognized the well-lighted area as the New Orleans hospital district. A cabbie waiting in front opened the back door when he saw me looking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Where to, bub?” he asked<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Bertram’s bar on Chartres,” I said, ducking as I saw the two men exit the hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">They didn’t see me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The French Quarter wasn’t far. As I exited the cab, music from a brass band wafted up from the direction of Bourbon Street. It was summer in the Quarter and business slow at Bertram’s. The Cajun bartender wasn’t happy, and his dark eyes showed it. He didn’t bother removing his trapper’s hat as he mopped his brow with a red-checkered handkerchief.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">During the day, large windows flooded the open room with ambient light. It leaped off polished wood floors and an ornate bar that had to be two-hundred years old. Tonight, only flashing neon reflected through the windows. Panties, bras, and other undergarments hung from the ceiling over the bar. They were a testament to the consumption of gallons of alcohol resulting in lost inhibitions. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, they say. Unlike Vegas, visitors celebrate what happens to them in the Big Easy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Bertram had no permanent help, preferring to do everything himself. It didn’t seem to matter because the bar rarely closed. Sometimes, there were so many customers that beer flowed like water. I realized he must have been making a fortune. You’d never know it from looking at him. He still drove the same old truck, and he’d never spent a dime remodeling the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Tourists like it like this,” he always said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Yes, they did and so did I.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Where the hell you been?” he asked when I came through the door. “The <span style="font-size: x-small;">N.O.P.D</span>. was here earlier and tore up your room looking for something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Did they have a search warrant?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Didn’t ask,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Sensing something was amiss he locked the front door and flipped his closed sign.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You let them in my room without a search warrant?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Hell, Cowboy, since when does the <span style="font-size: x-small;">N.O.P.D.</span> need a search warrant?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I didn’t bother answering his question. “What were they looking for?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Don’t know, but your room’s a mess. What the hell’s going on?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Too much to explain and not enough time. No sense in calling the police now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What happened to your arm and why are you slurring your words?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Someone’s trying to kill me. Can you take care of my cat for a few days?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You ain’t told me what happened to you, yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Before I could answer, someone began banging on the door. Bertram nodded for me to get out of sight. A door behind the liquor cabinet led to the suite of rooms where he lived. I called to him before I slipped through it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Bertram, alert Tony. Tell him I’ll meet him at Culotta’s tomorrow, about noon. Ask him to dig up anything he can on the Mary Taggert murder. And Bertram, tell him to come alone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">He nodded as he hurried across the empty bar to check on the disturbance at the front door. Slipping into his apartment, I looked to see if it was my two new companions. It was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">A back door to Bertram’s apartment led to the tiny garage where he kept his old beater. Another door exited into an alleyway. I stepped into the darkness, disturbing a stray cat pawing through the trash. If I weren’t already paranoid, I was now. Someone was trying to kill me, and the New Orleans cops were somehow involved. I needed answers and headed to the only place I knew where I might get some.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I had no idea what time it was as I hurried to the Carousel Bar, hoping it was still open. Lucy Diamond, according to Rafael Romanov, might be there. I wanted to see her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The rain had ended, moving east to Mississippi. Water, glistening from reflected streetlight, flooded the streets. A few late-night party people were still prowling the Quarter. I hurried past them as I entered the majestic Monteleone. I didn’t have time to admire the chandeliers, ducking into the Carousel Bar instead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">The intimate setting featured a circular bar that rotated like a circus carousel. It had a top, shaped like a crown, and decorated with carved Mardi Gras faces. A single person, the reporter Lucy Diamond, sat alone at the bar. Her eyes widened when I joined her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You! Are you stalking me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I assure you I’m not, but I do need to talk to you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You ruined my new silk blouse, you asshole.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“We met before that. I’m Rafael Romanov’s friend. Remember?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">As she glared at me, it was my first real look at her. She was a knockout with striking green eyes and ash blond hair. Her pouty lips required no lipstick, nor did her Nordic complexion need any makeup. She sounded tipsy, and the punch stain formed a rose bloom on her silk blouse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Fred, would you please call security and have this man removed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">During my drinking years, I’d spent many hours rotating at the Carousel. I didn’t recognize Fred, the bartender, but put up a hand as he reached for the phone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Please, wait. What I have to say to Ms. Diamond is important.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“He’s a stalker. I’ve dealt with your kind before.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’m not a stalker. Won’t you at least give me a minute to explain why I’m here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Lucy nodded to Fred, giving him permission to replace the phone. With arms clasped to her chest, she gave me a quick look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Okay, buster, this better be good.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Doctor Mary Taggert,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What about her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I’m a private investigator. A new client who said he was Mary Taggert’s son hired me earlier tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Impossible. Mary Taggert had no son. She was a confirmed lesbian.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Sure about that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Lucy Diamond didn’t answer, sipping her martini instead. “Your jacket.” she finally said. “What happened to you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">My bandage had failed, blood oozing from the bullet hole in my linen sports coat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“My client. Someone kidnapped him in front of the Saenger. They shot me when I tried to stop them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You kidding me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I met him for the first time at the wake. He hired me to find his mother's murderer, and make sure everyone knew their name.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">By now, I had Lucy Diamond’s complete attention.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What’s all this got to do with kidnapping and getting shot at?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“He gave me a package. Told me not to turn around until he was gone. I ignored his instructions, tailing him out to Canal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“And?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Men in a black sedan were waiting outside for him. He tried to run away. They chased him down and threw him into the backseat of the car. They shot me. When I fell, I hit my head on the sidewalk, unconscious until I came to in a hospital.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You expect me to believe that crazy story?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“I didn’t make up this bullet hole in my shoulder.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Then why aren’t you still in the hospital?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Because the two goons that shot me returned to finish the job. I managed to escape and came to the Carousel because Rafael told me I could find you here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Why didn’t you call the police?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Because they’re somehow in on it. They trashed my apartment looking for something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“This tale is growing a little too tall,” she said, glancing at a bottle of gin on a rack above the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Fred was polishing a glass as he listened to our conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Want me to make that call?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Wait,” I said. “I have something important to show you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Like what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“This,” I said, dropping an object into her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“A Mardi Gras doubloon?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“1948 Krewe of Rex. a rarity, I’d guess<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Oh my!” she said. “This is so heavy it must be . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Solid gold.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">She fingered the Carnival coin, holding it up to the light for a better view.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“There’s a strange symbol on the back. What does it mean?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“No idea,” I said. “It was the only thing my client gave me, except for twenty thousand dollars.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You have to be making this up,” she said. “What the hell am I supposed to make of an old Mardi Gras doubloon?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“My client seemed to think it was all I needed to solve the case.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“What did you say his name was?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“He didn’t tell me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">When I grabbed my head, the bartender reacted by handing me two aspirins and a glass of water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“You don’t look too good,” he said. “Want me to call an ambulance?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“A sinking spell. I’m okay now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Finish your story,” Lucy said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“That’s about it. Two goons in black sports coats are trying to kill me. I can’t go to the police, and my head’s about to split.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Charge my room, Fred,” Lucy said. “Buy this pest anything he wants. I’m out of here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Thanks for the aspirins, Fred,” I said, following her out the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">I caught up with her at the elevator.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">“Your story reeks, but Fred seemed a little too interested. Everything I have on the Taggert murder is in my room. We can have a little privacy there. I’m too drunk to worry about whether you’re going to rape and kill me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Her remark made me grin. “I’ve never raped or killed anyone. My shoulder is killing me. Right now, I'd have trouble arm wrestling a bunny rabbit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">She stopped in her tracks and stared at me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">“That’s the first thing you’ve said all night I believe.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-495394683717785302018-09-16T23:39:00.000-05:002018-10-12T18:01:25.312-05:00Primal Creatures - an excerpt<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Do you believe in werewolves? In south Louisiana, Cajuns do and call them rougarou. In <a href="http://amzn.to/2biRQyb">Primal Creatures</a>, a movie producer hires French Quarter sleuth Wyatt Thomas to investigate a gruesome death at an island resort south of New Orleans. There's a fishing village on the island populated mostly by the descendants of slaves that had escaped into the swamp. An old voodoo woman from the village tells Wyatt, "There are creatures on this island that only walk at night." To make matters worse, a hurricane is approaching the island, southern Louisiana and New Orleans.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Wyatt's friend and associate ex-<span style="font-size: x-small;">N.O.P.D.</span> homicide detective Tony Nicosia is helping him with the case and Tony tracks a discredited researcher to his rundown Garden District mansion in New Orleans. The city is buttoned up and evacuated in preparation for the approaching hurricane. Dr. Kelton Frenette and his wife Latrice can't leave because they've had something frozen in their basement freezer for forty years. Don't believe in werewolves? Read this excerpt from <a href="https://amzn.to/2rC4FNp">French Quarter Mystery</a> No. 3 and you might just change your mind. Hope you love it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">P.S. If you need to go down to your basement after reading this at least wait until daylight and even then you might want to take someone with you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><b>Primal Creatures Excerpt</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tony awoke the next morning feeling better than he had in weeks. The rain had momentarily abated to just a sprinkle falling from a dark and cloudy sky. Just a brief respite, he knew. His neighbor was boarding his windows as he went out to the car. The man shouted across the driveway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You hear about the hurricane?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I heard. I got something to do first. I’ll be back to board up the windows a little later.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Need some help, just let me know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Thanks, Joe,” he said as he cranked the engine on his Sebring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Though still early, traffic was heavy, people scurrying around, preparing for the approaching hurricane. The storm was in the back of Tony’s mind as he splashed through puddles of water on his way down St. Charles Avenue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Kelton Frenette still lived in the Garden District. Tony had his address and was on his way there. He hadn’t called first because sometimes the best tactic was to just show up at someone’s doorstep. Give them no time to concoct a story, if that’s what they were inclined to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Steady rain poured down his windshield as Tony parked on the street in front of Frenette’s home. He knew a person’s house spoke volumes about the people living in them. As he gazed at the old two-story mansion, he’d already formed an opinion of the man before ever seeing him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The Garden District is known for its eclectic architecture. Frenette’s house might have been Greek Revival, Victorian, or plantation style. Tony didn’t care. What he saw was a house desperately in need of a fresh coat of paint, trees that had gone untrimmed for years if not decades, broken boards on the porch, and cracked panes of glass in the windows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The iron gate was unlatched, swung open toward the front door of the house as if there was no one inside that cared if anyone came or went. Pulling his collar up around his neck, he closed and latched the gate behind him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The doorbell didn’t work. After knocking several times, he began wondering if the house was deserted. Before he turned to leave, someone opened the door a crack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Help you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The large, black woman peeking through the door sounded pleasant enough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Is Dr. Frenette in?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“He’s in, but he doesn’t see anybody these days. What is it you needed?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Dr. Frenette did some research years ago. I’d like to talk to him about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“As I said, he doesn’t get around much anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A booming voice sounded behind the woman. “Who is it, Latrice?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Some person that wants to talk to you about your research.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Well let him in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The woman named Latrice opened the door for Tony, and he entered the spacious alcove lined with large pots where ornamental plants probably once grew. Sitting in an antique, wooden wheelchair was the man with the booming voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I’m Kelton Frenette,” he said. “How can I help you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I’m Tony Nicosia. You did research on a rabies-like virus. I’d like to talk to you about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Are you a reporter?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“No sir, I’m not. Just a guy with some questions I hope you have answers for.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Then come with me,” he said as he wheeled into a cavernous room that was clearly the main living area.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Like the paint on the outside of the house, the off-pink walls had the look and feel of faded antiquity. The couch, settee, and chairs were antiques. Probably valuable. Everything was spotless, no dust anywhere in the room. Only the shiny patina of age and continuous use tarnished the furniture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Take a seat, please,” Latrice said. “Can I get you something to drink? Tea or lemonade?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Forget the tea and lemonade, Latrice. Bring Mr. Nicosia a brandy, and one for me too, please.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Latrice didn’t argue, soon returning with three snifters filled with expensive brandy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Is Latrice your help?” Tony asked when she was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Latrice is my wife,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I apologize.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Don’t worry about it. A more tolerant age is what Latrice and I needed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You haven’t been out much lately. Things are better now. Whatever, I can see you made a wise choice.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette smiled for the first time. Like his voice, he was a portly man, probably pushing three hundred pounds. His khaki pants and canvas shirt were pressed and clean but as timeworn as the paint on the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“There was a time when mixed marriages were frowned upon by people in the Garden District,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Then you should have moved to the Quarter. They always been a little more tolerant across Canal Street.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Ain’t that the truth,” Frenette said in an affected southern accent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“This is wonderful brandy,” Tony said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Pierre Ferrand, 1972. I only serve it to my favorite guests. Since you are the only guest we’ve had in a while, you got lucky. If you like brandy, that is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Love it, though it sounds like I probably can’t afford the finest stuff.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“None of us can, Mr. Nicosia, but then again none of us can afford not to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I like your philosophy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Now tell me what you need to know about my research.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette nodded when Tony asked, “You know what a rougarou is?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">You think they exist?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette nodded again. “If you’re a journalist, it’s too late to discredit me. That was done years ago.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Tell me about it, please,” Tony said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“When I published my findings in a small medical journal, my colleagues called me mad. My research funds dried up, and I was widely shunned.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I’m not a journalist, Dr. Frenette, I’m a detective investigating two recent deaths that are baffling, to say the least.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“And you think a rougarou is responsible?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tony dropped the claw into Frenette’s hand. “You seen anything like this before?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Where did you get it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“From the horribly mutilated body of a person possibly killed by one of those creatures we aren’t supposed to know exists.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette fingered the claw, then tilted his oversized head, rubbing his chin with thick fingers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Interesting,” he said. “Latrice, we need more brandy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Latrice must have been within hearing distance because she quickly appeared with the bottle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Thanks, ma’am,” Tony said as she replenished his snifter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“We’re going into the basement,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You sure, Honey?” Latrice said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“We’ll be fine,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Latrice pushed him to a hallway near the center of the large house. With some difficulty, she lifted the heavy, metal bar across the door. Using a ring of keys hanging on the wall, she unlocked three padlocks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Opening the door of an oversized dumbwaiter, she wheeled Frenette in and pushed a button. An old electric motor made grating sounds as the cab of the dumbwaiter began descending into the basement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Latrice pointed Tony to a door leading to the cellar, removing the metal bar and unlocking three more padlocks as she had on the dumbwaiter door. When he entered, she switched on a bare, overhead bulb that dimly illuminated the musty stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The stairway was steep, Tony thankful for his recently repaired knees. Another dim light greeted him when he reached the concrete floor of the basement. Dr. Frenette waited in a large room that felt twenty degrees colder than at the top of the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I haven’t been here in ten years,” he said. “I know this place looks like something out of Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory. I assure you, my endeavors weren’t so manic.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The room was filled with beakers, test tubes, and medical paraphernalia, everything coated with dust. There was also a dissection table that reminded Tony of the autopsy room he’d recently visited. The large, open cellar reeked of must, and maybe something else. The subtle, but distinctive odor of death, like he’d smelled in the autopsy office, permeated everything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You haven’t come here in ten years?” Tony asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“That’s right.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Because?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“There’s something here that haunts me to my very core. Are you a religious man, Mr. Nicosia?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I go to church on Easter and Christmas. My priest doesn’t remember my name because I haven’t taken confession in years.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette grinned for the first time since they’d been in the basement. Tony still had the empty snifter in his hand. Frenette motioned him over and refilled it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Sometimes brandy is more comforting than a priest,” he said. “Since there’s no priest to comfort us, let's have another drink.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Amen to that. What’s going on down here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I want to show you something. Do you have a strong stomach, Mr. Nicosia?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette grinned when Tony said, “I’ve lost my cookies a time or two. What you got, Doc?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Dr. Frenette pointed to a large, horizontal freezer against the wall. Like the dumbwaiter and the cellar door, it was secured by several locks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It’s in there,” he said. “You might want to take a deep breath before you open it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Chapter 26</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> Frenette tossed Tony a set of keys, and he quickly slipped the padlocks. The lid had long since frozen to the top of the freezer, and he had to give it an extra hard pull. When he did, it popped open with a whoosh, stale, refrigerated air blasting his face. After glancing a moment at the contents of the refrigerator, he took a step backward.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Jesus! What the hell is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Your rougarou, Mr. Nicosia.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tony stared at the frozen body of something that wasn’t quite a man. Dark eyes glinting red in the overhead lighting stared back at him. Tufts of thick, brown hair splotched the creature’s face and neck. Long fangs protruded from the half-opened mouth. Black claws, like the one he had in his pocket, extended from his hairy fingers. White frost encased the frozen body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Is it. . . ?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Dead? It’s been frozen for more than forty years, though I fear it’s still very much alive.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It’s enormous. How did you get it in there?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I had help.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Where did it come from?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Close the lid, lock it tight, and then I’ll tell you the story. After we go back upstairs.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tony closed and relocked the freezer, then wheeled Dr. Frenette to the dumbwaiter. After situating him inside it and pushing the button, he switched off the lights and hurried up the steep stairway toward the dim light shining at the top. Latrice was waiting for them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">She quickly padlocked the doors and returned the metal bars to their catches before giving her husband a hug that dragged on for several anxious moments.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It’s okay, Baby. It’s still frozen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The rain, buffeted by the wind that hadn’t been present when Tony arrived, had intensified as they returned to the pink living room. Latrice quickly handed him and Dr. Frenette a new snifter of brandy, and then covered her husband’s legs with a tattered blanket. After placing the fancy bottle of brandy on the coffee table in front of Tony, she joined him on the couch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Hon, I was so worried.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It’s okay. The freezer’s working, and there’s nothing to worry about.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette smiled when Tony said, “I didn’t toss my cookies, but I almost did. That creature in the freezer. Was it really a rougarou?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You already know the answer to your question.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You haven’t told me where it came from.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“The creature is a person and has a name—Calvin Couvillion. His relatives brought him here. Like I said, more than forty years ago.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“And you’ve had it frozen in your basement since then? Maybe you’d better explain,” Tony said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It’s not like you think,” Latrice said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette waved his hand and shook his head, shushing her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Covillion came from the Atchafalaya Swamp, over near Thibodaux. His family brought him here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“A live rougarou?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Let me finish the story, and then you’ll see. Most of Couvillion’s family was at a fais-doux-doux.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I know,” Tony said when he hesitated. “A Cajun celebration.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“The family had already become concerned about Couvillion’s erratic behavior. When a storm came up during the party, he began to transform.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“The storm caused him to transform?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette nodded. “Perhaps hurried along by a rapid change in barometric pressure. That’s the only explanation I can come up with.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“And everyone at the party saw him?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“They believe in such things out there on the bayou. He might have killed someone but was struck by lightning, the impact rendering him immobile, at least temporarily. They packed him in dry ice and brought him to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I was doing research on lycanthropy and rumors had started to spread.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Lycanthropy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“The study of human transformation into a wolf-like creature,” he explained, seeing the puzzled look on Tony’s face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“What about his family? They just left him here with you and never said nothing about it, even after all these years?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“They were afraid. They helped me put him into the freezer, and then left me with their problem.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“He was struck by lightning and didn’t die?” Tony said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You apparently know little about rougarous, loup-garous, werewolves, or whatever you want to call them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Tell me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“The virus that causes lycanthropy is similar to the rabies virus. Rabies can take months or even years to develop. Before a cure was discovered, people contracting it often became hyper-sexual and then eventually quite mad.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“But we aren’t talking about rabies here,” Tony said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“No, but the two diseases are similar in many ways.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“How so?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Rabies is the only virus contracted by a bite, the person bitten guaranteed to contract the virus and die unless they undergo a painful treatment.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“If you shoot a mad dog, it dies. If the disease you’re talking about is like rabies, how could someone that has it survive a lightning strike?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Because, Mr. Nicosia, the disease makes them immortal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I don’t believe that. Nothing’s immortal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Oh, but you’re wrong. Cancer cells are immortal. That’s why we have no cure. Succeed in knocking out one cell with radiation or chemotherapy, and it usually only results in the propagation of many more.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“We’re not talking about cancer here,” Tony said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“The rabies-like virus that causes lycanthropy mutates the cells in a person’s body. Like cancer, the mutated individual becomes, quite literally, immortal. I’m sorry if the concept is difficult to reconcile, but it is what it is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Don’t get me wrong, Doc. I don’t want you to cut me off this great brandy, but I don’t quite buy your story. Like I said, nothing is immortal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Au contraire, Mr. Nicosia. The creature you saw frozen in the basement is very much alive. Of that, I can assure you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Then why didn’t you report it to the authorities years ago?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Because I was already a discredited researcher when the family brought me Calvin Couvillion. I thought I could show everyone I wasn’t crazy by curing the man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Why didn’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“A little problem,” Frenette said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Then didn’t it occur to you to get it the hell out of here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“More than once,” Latrice said. “We even thought about burning the house down.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Just call the authorities. Let them deal with it. You should have done it forty years ago.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Latrice’s hands went to her face to hide her tears. “You just don’t know how it was back then. People protesting at our front door, calling Kelton Dr. Frankenstein.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tony grabbed the bottle of brandy, topped up her snifter and then gave her shoulder a reassuring pat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Ma’am, I’m not here to point fingers or cause distress. I’m just looking for answers. Maybe I can help get rid of that creature in your basement if that’s what it actually is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tony’s words and the brandy calmed her. Cupping the snifter in her palms, she held it to her nose as if the pungent aroma might somehow drive away her unpleasant memories. Tony topped up his own glass and that of Dr. Frenette’s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Our paranoia kept us from revealing the creature to the authorities. Not to mention we feared letting loose such a beast on an unsuspecting city,” Frenette said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I was afraid they’d put Kelton in prison,” Latrice said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“No one’s going to jail. If you have a serum that cures the disease, why don't you just use it?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“The little problem I mentioned. You can’t inject serum into a frozen body, and we can’t unthaw him because he would kill us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Jesus! I can’t believe you’ve lived forty years with that thing in your basement. I take it you stayed here during Katrina.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When Latrice began to cry again, Frenette wheeled over to her, and they hugged again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“We were afraid to stay and even more afraid to leave,” Latrice said when her tears abated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It was terrible with the wind and rain. Not knowing if the house would survive, much less ourselves,” Frenette said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Yeah, well it’s not getting much better out there right now. Didn’t you lose power? How did you keep that thing in the freezer from thawing out?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“We had a large generator installed years ago. We’ve never had to use it,” Frenette said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I think I’d have carried it out to the swamp and dumped it in the bayou,” Tony said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Believe me, we thought about it. In the end, it just wasn’t possible. If there were just a way to disable it until the serum had a chance to take effect,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette and Latrice both looked at Tony when he said, “Maybe there is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You know something you’re not telling us?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It was Tony’s turn to hold up a palm. “Like I said, I’m investigating two deaths down in St. Bernard Parish, near the Gulf. Both may have been killed by a rougarou. Hell, I don’t even think we’re talking about a single rougarou. There may be several.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“An outbreak. What I’ve feared all these years,” Frenette said. “I have a possible cure, but no way to administer it, except in the early stages of the disease. What were you talking about when you said maybe there is?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“My partner’s working the case on Goose Island. There’s a fishing village with a voodoo woman that lives there. Her son coats his buckshot with something she gives him. He claims it’ll knock down a rougarou.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“For how long?” Frenette asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“At least until the person doing the shooting can escape.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Well for God’s sake, tell me what it is!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Wolfsbane,” Tony said, waiting for Frenette to scoff at his suggestion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">He didn’t. Turning to Latrice, he said, “Baby, can you get me the Martinsdale?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Sure, Hon,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Latrice apparently knew what he wanted because she went to the bookcase lining the wall and pulled a large book from the many volumes. Frenette began leafing through it immediately. Apparently locating what he was looking for, he stared at the page.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Find something?” Tony asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Aconite,” he finally said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Pardon me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Aconite, the active ingredient found in the Aconitum species.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You mean Wolfsbane?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“That’s one of the flowers. The substance has been used in Chinese and Ayurvedic medicine for centuries. In small doses, it can be helpful. Its highly toxic in large doses and can paralyze, stop a person’s heart, and even kill.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“But will it stop a rougarou?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You’re the one that said it does.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Yeah, but I’m not speaking from experience here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“The Ainu, Japanese indigenous people, used it on their arrows when they hunted bear. It’s extremely powerful. It just might work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Fine,” Tony said. “Now what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“We have to thaw him out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You’re shitting me! You have aconite?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Yes, more than enough to do what we need.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You sure about that? What if it don’t work?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Then at least we won’t have to worry about it anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tony glanced at his watch. “Sounds like you’re gonna need help moving him. I’m ready if you are.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You’re a brave man, Mr. Nicosia,” Frenette said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Hell, I don’t hold a candle to you and Latrice. Let’s do it before I change my mind.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Dr. Frenette smiled for the first time since leaving the basement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Baby, you better open us another bottle of Pierre Ferrand, and then join us in the laboratory.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tony and Frenette were at the basement door when a clap of thunder shook the roof. When it did, all the lights went out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Oh hell, there goes the power,” Frenette said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“What happened to the generator?” Tony asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It hasn’t been tested since the time it was installed. Who knows? We’ll have to make do without it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Flickering light soon lit the hallway as Latrice joined them, the bottle of brandy in one hand, a hurricane lamp in the other. Frenette took both.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Go get more candles, Baby. We’re going to need them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tony and Frenette were soon back in the dank laboratory lighted only by glimmering candlelight. Latrice quickly joined them. After steeling themselves with more brandy, Frenette pointed to an operating table, its legs lowered so he could reach it without standing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You ready?” Tony asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When Frenette nodded, Latrice unlocked the freezer and opened it, her face revealing more than words could express.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“What is it, Baby?” Frenette asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Oh my God, Hon! It’s fully transformed. No longer even partially human.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Her words caused Tony to become more nervous than he already was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Help me up,” Frenette said. “I need to see.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Latrice and Tony helped him out of the wheelchair, supporting him as he gazed into the freezer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“My God! Even encased in melting ice, he’s somehow managed to transform entirely from human to wolf. It must be the storm.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“How is that possible? The electricity hasn’t even been off for ten minutes yet.” Tony said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Then we must hurry. We don’t have much time left.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Tony nodded when Latrice said, “Can you help me get him out of there?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As Frenette watched, Latrice and Tony lifted the large body out of the freezer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“This thing must weigh three hundred pounds,” Tony said, struggling with the weight. “You okay, Latrice?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I got him. Just hurry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette had rigged up a mechanical drip and filled it with aconite. The creature’s body was totally naked, its wolf/human genitals only partially hidden by thick tufts of hair. Latrice covered most of the body with a blanket to accelerate the thawing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Now we wait,” Frenette said. “Soon as I can penetrate his skin with the needle, I’ll start the drip. I don’t need you two for that. Go upstairs and lock the door. I’ll call when I’m done.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“I’m not going anywhere,” Latrice said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“In for a penny, in for a pound. I’m staying,” Tony said.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Twenty minutes passed. Though he’d tried several times, Dr. Frenette was unsuccessful in inserting the needle into the rougarou’s vein. After an hour, the creature’s eyes moved in their sockets. For a moment, Tony was sure they were looking straight at him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It’s now or never,” Frenette said. “The beast is almost cognizant.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Latrice clutched Tony’s arm as Dr. Frenette began working the needle. The creature was fully thawed and beginning to move. Tony reached for his service revolver before remembering he didn’t have it anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Bingo!” Frenette finally said. “Thank God this instrument has a battery pack or it wouldn’t do us any good without electricity.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Yeah, when was the last time you checked the batteries?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Frenette didn’t answer. Latrice just closed her eyes, crossed her fingers and began praying out loud. Reaching for the I.V.’s control panel, Frenette flipped the switch. The display turned green and the screen began recording drips of aconite into the creature’s arm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Shit, that’s a relief. Now what?” Tony asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“It’ll work, or else in an hour or so we’ll all be in hell,” Frenette </span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">said.</span><span style="font-family: "century" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: medium; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: medium; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: medium; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: medium; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></span></span></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-19390445155929715892018-09-07T20:26:00.000-05:002019-03-15T14:10:22.820-05:00Big Easy - an excerpt<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">In <a href="https://t.co/9dTEREzoMM">Big Easy</a>, Book 1 of my <a href="https://t.co/X3SlDnDcTL">French Quarter Mystery Series</a>, a killer is at play on the dark streets of New Orleans. The element connecting all of the killings is voodoo. Long-suffering </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%;">N.O.P.D.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> homicide detective Tony Nicosia enlists the assistance of two of his friends: voodoo mambo Mama Mulate and French Quarter sleuth Wyatt Thomas to assist him in his investigation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Voodoo is the street name for Vodoun and it’s safe to say few people know much of anything about this strange and mysterious religion. In Big Easy, Mama instructs Tony about voodoo and takes him with her to attend a ceremony on the banks of Bayou Rigolette. Ride along with Mama and Tony and attend the ceremony with them. Some of the content of the excerpt is “racy,” so if you are offended by such content then please stop reading now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">In Mama’s words— “The ceremonies are often quite sexual as Vodoun is the religion of common people. Poor people of the world have no place in their lives for puritan mores and morality. Life is not all flowers and fairy tales, it’s also bladder wrenching fear, utter poverty, and rotten meat. Will you be okay?” she asks Tony.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Tony survived but not without consequences. Like Tony, I hope you will also be okay and that you will enjoy your peek into a Louisiana voodoo ceremony during a stormy night on the bayou.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Big Easy, Chapter 24<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When the rain had subsided a bit, Mama continued along the blacktop, this time at a much slower speed to avoid hydroplaning into the ditch. Her body language indicated Tony had regained her good graces. As flashes of lightning illuminated the cab of the car, he could feel the thaw.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Tell me about the case. Maybe I can help,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“The three victims were homeless, the two females both murdered in a ritualistic fashion. All lived near the Camp Street Mission. Slow strangulation with a thin piece of wire killed the two women. The murderer strangled the male with his bare hands. Oddly enough, the male victim was our prime suspect in the case.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Why did you suspect the murdered man?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“His history of violent behavior. He’d once attacked his English teacher. Both female victims were former English teachers. Problem is he was also a victim.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I see,” Mama said. “A mystery wrapped in a conundrum.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Something like that,” Tony said. “We found a bowler hat, cigar, and flashy sunglasses at the scene. That’s compatible with your description of the man that attacked Celeste.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Baron Samedi,” she said. “Wyatt told me the murderer took a hand and left the foreleg of a cow in its place.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“The way Wyatt explained it to me, this Baron person should have ended up with the cow’s hoof. Tommy, my partner, said it sounds ass-backward.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Unless the murderer left the foreleg as a clue.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Or to make us think he’s someone he’s not,” Tony said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“The person that enticed Celeste away from Bourbon Street was Baron Samedi, and not someone disguised as him. Of that, I am sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Mama, I’m having trouble absorbing this spiritual stuff and such. I can’t deal with a ghost here. I need a killer that’s an air-breathing human being.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“He is Tony. In Vodoun, we deal with the concept of possession. Spirits often possess the bodies of the living. Possession causes them to do things they would not ordinarily do. You will see this at the ceremony tonight. These possessions are usually initiated by mambos or houngans.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You mean someone could be directing the murderer?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“That is exactly what I mean.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Great! I can see the confused looks in the eyes of the jury right now. Every defense attorney in the city will be clamoring to represent the killer. Hell, the case is already so convoluted that I could get him off myself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Again, the rain became so intense that Mama pulled to the side of the road, put the car in neutral, and engaged the emergency brake. This time, she kept the engine running because the roof and windows of the little car were so porous there was little chance of asphyxiation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“It’ll work out,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I hope so. Now finish your story about tonight’s ceremony.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Each Vodoun ceremony is unique, meant to invoke a particular Loa to negotiate with Bon Dieu. Our faith has three stages of initiation. Most worshipers never go beyond the first level. The next requires much more time and effort to achieve. Mambos and houngans are initiates of the second level. The third level is, quite simply, the most powerful practitioner of our faith on the earth.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“And who is that?” Tony asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“That’s a secret even I don’t know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">By now, the ground was saturated and heavy rainfall streamed across the road with large fish flopping around in the middle of the narrow thoroughfare. It seemed to be raining fishes. Tony worried the intensified storm would result in canceling the ceremony.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“This could go on all night,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Have faith,” Mama said. “The rain will cease long before the activities begin.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“If you say so,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">He began to notice her perfume—an enchanting fragrance further enhanced by the sweet, subtle scent of her warm, damp body. Like a double shot of straight whiskey, it quickly intoxicated him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“The ceremonies are often quite sexual as Vodoun is the religion of common people. Poor people of the world have no place in their lives for puritan mores and morality. Life is not all flowers and fairy tales, it’s also bladder wrenching fear, utter poverty, and rotten meat. Will you be okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I’ve been around the block a time or two.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I’ll bet you have. What do you think is the most appropriate gift for the Queen of the Sea?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Fish, I guess,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Mama laughed aloud. “Never offer Lasyrenn fish. Appropriate offerings are sweet, white wine, mirrors, and perfume. It was a reasonable guess.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">As Mama predicted, the rain soon abated and finally stopped altogether. They still had a problem. When she put the car into gear, the rear wheels spun in the mud. They were stuck. Tony got out and rocked the car, pushing as Mama applied the gas. Luckily, the vehicle wasn’t heavy, and the pavement nearby. Still, he was out of breath when he reentered the car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You’re way too young to be wheezing like that after a little exercise. I have something to increase your strength. You’re going to need all you can muster before the night ends.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">She reached into her purse for a vitamin bottle filled with capsules, popping one into his mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“What is it?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“An extraction from the bark of an African tree called Yohimbe. Warriors used to drink Yohimbe tea before going into battle. It has psychotropic properties. Simply put, it alters perception, emotion, and behavior. It was the first drug approved as a treatment for sexual dysfunction. Unlike Viagra, it does more than make you erect.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Like what?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Puts you in the mood. Makes you want it like a rutting stag.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Do you get it from Africa?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You can buy it over-the-counter at practically any drugstore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Since Mama had made clear the herb only works on male subjects, he wondered why she kept a bottle in her purse. He didn’t need her drug because he was already hot for the gorgeous voodoo mambo. While taking a hard corner, Mama reached over and grabbed his thigh for support. When her electric touch brought him to an almost instant erection, he began to worry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The car’s top that had been such a bear to raise and secure was a pussycat to lower. The rain had finally ceased, and Mama unlatched the top, laying it behind them as she drove.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Never did like these things,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Mama exited the main road and took an even narrower blacktop that led into a thicket of trees, bushes, and vines. An armadillo ran across the road in front of them. Minutes later, the pervasive rhythm of African drums, echoing through the draping shadow of live oak and Spanish moss, encompassed their senses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Mambo Aghnee will have a mistress-of-ceremony. Her name is Estelle. There is also a group of servers dressed in white. Most of the worshipers will only be onlookers. Some will even become possessed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Between the Yohimbe and magic powder Mama had blown up his nose, Tony’s head had begun to hum. Though he couldn’t explain the feeling, he knew it was a mental high more powerful than he’d ever experienced. The herbs, Mama’s perfume, damp night air, and the steady drumming had transported him to a different plane of reality. Worse, he’d almost forgotten the main reason he was there in the first place. He remained in his seat after Mama parked and got out of the car. Opening the passenger door, she grabbed his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Are you ready?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">He had a silly grin on his face as she nudged him gently out of the bucket seat. It no longer worried him that she might see the obvious bulge in his pants. Mama simply smiled as she led him to the peristyle illuminated by torchlight. The brethren had already started gathering, many sitting cross-legged in a circle around the peristyle, their bodies swaying to the beat of drums.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/u/1/null" name="c25"><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Chapter 25<o:p></o:p></span></b></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Being a mambo has its perks,” Mama said. “There’s something important I have to tell you. It’s possible you may be asked to perform in the ceremony.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Her statement normally would have sent Tony running to the comfort and safety of the car. Tonight was different. He was different.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“How will I know what to do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You’ll know,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Heavy rain had passed, heading south toward the Gulf. Humidity remained, carrying with it the dueling fragrances of perfume and night blooming hyacinths. Mingling aromatic scents further lifted his already elevated libido. As he and Mama swayed to the music, the tempo of the three drums began to change. Smoke, billowing from the far side of the peristyle, appeared after a loud pop. It remained near the ground as humid air prevented its rapid dissipation. With everyone’s attention rapt, a young woman appeared followed closely by three women dressed in white.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The woman named Estelle, Mambo Aghnee’s La Place, danced slowly to the rhythm of sultry drums. Attractive Estelle had the body of a college athlete. Gris gris and charms draped from chains around her neck, decorating her white dress. Her legs, exposed to mid-thigh, were the color of coffee lightened with extra cream. Bouncing cornrows framed her face and expressive eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The servers carried a hidden stash of offerings for the Loa Lasyrenn. Estelle took a bottle of white wine from one woman and danced to the poteau mitan, a post in the ground acting as the altar. Removing the cork, she poured a few drops on the post. Dropping to her knees, she began writhing like a serpent. When she finally returned to her feet, she grabbed the neck of her dress with both hands and ripped it open to the top of her dark pubic hair. After pouring the rest of the wine down her chest, she caressed her breasts with the bottle. Sinking to her knees, she continued her snakelike dance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The serpent dance caused the audience of fifty or more people to sing, sway, and moan, many joining in with their own writhing movement. Estelle crawled on her belly to her servers, retrieving from them dove feathers and a mirror. Something unusual happened this time when she deposited the offering at the poteau mitan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The audience gasped as the loud pop of another explosion sounded. A second thick cloud of smoke billowed up from the far side of the peristyle. From the cloud of smoke, another woman appeared. It was Mambo Aghnee, her arms outstretched to the heavens, right hand clasping a rattle made from a calabash gourd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Mama Aghnee’s flowing hair reached her waist. Instead of black as Tony had expected, it was a striking shade of blond. Her pale skin seemed almost as though it had never seen the light of day. Her knee-length mantle of loosely beaded seashells made no pretense of covering her otherwise nude body. In that obscure age somewhere between early forty and seventy, her legs and torso could have passed for an athletic twenty-five-year-old. The youthful-looking mambo had neither scar nor blemish on her body. Her finest asset kept the crowd from spending too much time staring at her body. If she locked you with her eyes—limpid blue, the color of the sea pooled in Bahamian coral grottos—it was hard to break the stare.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Mambo Aghnee danced around the perimeter of the peristyle, shaking the rattle at her servers and the rapt audience. She circled three times and then moved toward the poteau mitan. dropping to her knees, she produced a bag containing powdered eggshell from beneath her beads. Pouring the eggshell into her hand, she used it to draw Lasyrenn’s vever in the dirt. Everyone watched until she completed the masterful drawing, the symbolic meaning known only to her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Mambo Aghnee pivoted on her knees, facing a bit of the peristyle that she and her La Place had oriented. Swaying observers parted and the servers appeared, between them a young woman with an angelic smile and nude body. They danced her to the awaiting Mambo Aghnee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Something about the striking mambo seemed vaguely familiar to Tony. Awash in the beat of drums, Mama’s perfume, and flickering torchlight, it failed to register as something important. The breaking and ebbing waves of dancers and performers engulfed him. Like the rest of the crowd watching the ceremony, he was only intent on the actions of the naked initiate and Mambo Aghnee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">After the servers and Estelle had oriented the initiate, Mambo Aghnee began dancing around her, shaking her rattle. Estelle and the servers placed offerings at the poteau mitan and on the body of the initiate. The young woman was soon dripping with perfume, honey, and white wine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Matched by Mambo Aghnee’s frenetic movements, the drummers changed the rhythm of their instruments. The faster she danced, the more sexually overt her gestures became. The crowd responded, mimicking every move and mannerism the animated mambo made.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">A collective gasp surged through the mass of swaying bodies following someone’s shrill scream. Almost on cue, a dozen observers began rolling on the ground, their bodies, and limbs writhing in a burst of uncontrolled motion. Mambo Aghnee’s actions were similar, although wilder and more animated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The possession had begun. Having accepted her offerings, the loa Lasyrenn had finally appeared embodied within the molten shape of Mambo Aghnee. Sultry and brazen, Lasyrenn/Aghnee pulsated through the faithful, humping their legs, stimulating them with the sexually explicit use of her lips, tongue, hands, and body. Her lewd behavior prompted more possessions. Those possessed rolled, squirmed, squealed, and cried on the ground beneath her bare feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">As Lasyrenn/Aghnee passed among the true believers, they opened a pathway toward the vever, the poteau mitan, and the loa’s newest initiate. Tony watched the blue-eyed woman mount the young initiate and hump her like an excited stallion. When the simulated, although quite explicit action ended, Lasyrenn/Aghnee stretched to her full height and pointed to the woman she straddled with her legs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Ainsi sort-il,” she shouted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Ainsi sort-il,” the dancers replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Estelle and the servers helped the young initiate to her feet and then pulled a white dress over her head. One of the women brought an ivory bowl that she and the others used to clean the initiate’s head. Following the ceremony known as Lave Tet, they led her away into the trees. Although the initiation had ended, the ceremony was not yet complete.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Mama’s drugs had already altered Tony’s perception of reality. No reality remained. As if on cue, the drumming intensified as every reveler crowded into the peristyle. He had the vague sense of Mama dancing around him, her caftan pulled down to her waist to reveal her bare breasts. It all seemed natural as she pulled him into the crowd. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Tony’s spirit had entered a wild, bacchanalian dream as Lasyrenn/Aghnee singled him out of the crowd. She danced toward him, her muscles flexing, and skin glistening with sweat. When he reached for her, she smiled and pulled away, then moved even closer, blowing in his ear and licking his eyeballs as she played with his nipples through the coarse cotton fabric of his shirt. Soon, she squatted atop him, humping him in a lascivious manner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Lightning flashed overhead, joining the fireworks already ignited in Tony’s brain, his reality suddenly altered beyond breaking. After turning the wildly excited Lasyrenn/Aghnee on her back, he spread her legs and began humping her as if a man possessed. He was possessed. Crowding around him, they began chanting Ghede, Ghede, Ghede.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Finished with Lasyrenn/Aghnee, Ghede/Tony rose to his feet and saw Mama. Stalking her, they launched into a game of cat and mouse as interpreted by dancing and movement that was both ritualistic, and sexually explicit. Ghede/Tony finally caught her, rolling her in the dirt beneath him, her shapely legs pointing toward the darkness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Mama’s skirt lay crumpled on the grass, her shapely legs spread wide and inviting, her eyes wild with desire. Ghede/Tony needed no encouragement. With tongue hanging from his salivating mouth, he lowered himself between her legs and had his way with her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-62856886211311419492018-09-01T12:16:00.003-05:002018-11-27T21:17:27.532-06:00City of Spirits - an excerpt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">In <a href="http://getbook.at/AmzCS">City of Spirits</a> my second book in the <a href="https://amzn.to/2rC4FNp">French Quarter Mystery Series</a>, N.O.P.D. homicide detective Tony Nicosia is dealing with Mardi Gras, an escaped killer and an affair he's having with a woman young enough to be his daughter. When he seeks the assistance of his friend voodoo mambo Mama Mulate, she agrees to help him. First, though, he must help her with the problem that she has: the intervention of her friend who is a serial bird hoarder.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><b>City of Spirits - Chapter 27</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Morning sun peeked over the Superdome as Tony left Venus’ apartment and hailed a cab. Too late—or too early, whichever your perspective—to go home, he decided to pay Mama Mulate a visit instead. He’d met Mama during a murder investigation. Voodoo had been involved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Being a voodoo mambo, Mama had provided valuable information that had helped stop the murderer. Along the way, they had become close friends. Right now, he needed a friend, someone to consult with about his ever-encompassing relationship with Venus Hernandez.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The taxi driver dropped him off in front of Mama’s old two-story house, purple, gold, and yellow pansies blooming in the flower garden around her front porch. His visit sat a dog to barking across the street. Mama, checking on the commotion, came to the door before he had a chance to knock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">She was tall, not quite six feet although slender enough to pass for it. Her skin was the color of <i>cafe au lait</i>, with extra <i>lait</i> stirred in. She had dark eyes perfectly highlighted by subtle cheekbones. Her long hair, usually tied up in back to match the persona of the Tulane University professor she was, flowed down her graceful shoulders in curly waves. Morning mist rose up from the lawn as she opened the front door, still wearing her cotton robe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Why Lieutenant Nicosia, to what do I owe the pleasure, this early in the day?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony smiled, getting a whiff of the aroma wafting through the open door. “I need your sage advice, but whatever you’re cooking has my stomach growling.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Well come in this house,” she said. “First, give me a hug.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">After embracing, Tony said, “How you doing, Mama?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“If I felt any better, I’d start to worry. You’ve—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Gained a little weight?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">It was Mama’s turn to smile. “Did you run out of Mama’s diet pills and come for more?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Awhile back, but that’s not why I’m here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama put her arm around his waist and led him down the hallway. “I’ve got hot Creole coffee on the stove and sticky muffins just coming from the oven. You look as if you could use both.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">When Tony started to take a chair at the kitchen table, Mama shook her hand and pointed to the door leading to her back porch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Let’s go outside. It’s so pleasant today we can listen to the birds singing. If crowd noises and marching bands don’t drown them out, that is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Mardi Gras,” Tony said. “I used to love it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Uh oh! You must have a problem. Grab a chair. I’ll get the coffee and muffins, and join you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama’s covered porch wrapped around the back and sides of her house, overlooking her yard that featured raised vegetable gardens, flowerbeds with lots of multicolored flowers, gargoyle fountains, and koi ponds. Ferns and flowering baskets hung from the porch ceiling as sounds of a distant Mardi Gras parade failed to drown out songs of robins, redbirds, and blue jays in the backyard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">When Mama appeared with coffee and muffins, her old robe was gone, replaced by jeans, and a form-fitting gold and purple tee shirt that highlighted her busty body. When Tony whistled Mama grinned as if expecting nothing less.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“If it wasn’t for Lil and my new girlfriend, I’d have to make a play for you, Mama.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Girlfriend?” she said, placing muffins and carafe on the table. “Maybe I should lace your coffee with Jack Daniel’s, so I can get the whole story here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama filled Tony’s cup with strong, chicory-laced, Creole coffee. He took a drink before replying to her comment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I got a problem, and I don’t need whiskey to help me tell you about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Then tell Mama,” she said, resting her chin in her palms and leaning toward him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I met this girl—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Girl?” Mama said, interrupting him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Someone young enough to be my daughter. Worse yet, she’s the daughter of one of my oldest friends.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Does Lil know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m sure she suspects something. I don’t think she knows the whole story. At least as yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Do you want her to know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony frowned, sat the coffee cup on Mama’s white tablecloth, and slowly tilted his head. A dauber buzzed overhead. Tony watched until it landed on its red clay nest in a corner of the ceiling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I don’t know what I want. Venus is giving me the best sex I’ve ever had. That’s not the main reason I’m attracted to her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Then what is?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“She treats me special, like a hero, and not some chump, beat cop.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You are special, Tony,” Mama said, clutching his hand. “You know that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’ve served on the force long enough to retire, and Lil’s nagging me to do it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“How do you feel about retirement?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Except for a summer of minor league baseball, police work is all I’ve ever done. I think I’d rather ride horse patrol in the Iberville Project.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Tell me about Venus.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“She’s young, gorgeous, and smart, though not quite as smart as you are, Mama.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Flattery will get you everywhere. Meantime, we’re talking about Venus.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I met her while my new partner and me were investigating a murder at the Golden Bough Casino. She’s the daughter of my old friend, Mo Hernandez. He and I broke out in the force together, and he later moved to Baton Rouge. Venus is the director of security on the Golden Bough. She carries a gun and has a degree in criminal justice from <span style="font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">u.n.o</span>.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Did you instigate the affair?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony grinned and sipped his coffee. “Let’s just say I didn’t resist very strongly. Marlon says some women like older men.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Marlon?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Marlon Bando, my new partner. I don’t know if you heard. Tommy took a knife in the gut while we were staking out a Carnival parade.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Oh my God! I didn’t know. Is he okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I hope so. Meantime, I got this pasty-faced, college-educated nerd-ball that’s about to drive me crazy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Lil’s a smart woman. Are you sure she doesn’t know about your little fling?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What I’m sure of is she suspects something’s going on. I don’t think she’s figured it all out quite yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama topped up their cups from the metal pot and pushed a muffin toward Tony. “Do you want a divorce?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Why hell no! Lil and I’ve been together so long I don’t know what I’d do without her, not to mention our girls would kill me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The steady bass of a distant tuba echoed off the walls, momentarily silencing songbirds in Mama’s yard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“So you want to break it off with Venus, but don’t know exactly how?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony smiled and nodded, took a quick bite of one of the muffins and followed it with a sip of coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Something like that. Now tell me how to do it without breaking the poor girl’s heart and I’ll be forever in your debt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">A hummingbird hovered near a feeder filled with red nectar. Mama glanced at it and then back at Tony.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I can help you, Lieutenant, but I’ll need a favor in return.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Lieutenant? What happened to Tony?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama laughed, put her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Because when you hear what I want you to do, you may tell me to go to hell.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><v:shapetype coordsize="21600,21600" filled="f" id="_x0000_t75" o:preferrelative="t" o:spt="75" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" stroked="f"> <v:stroke joinstyle="miter"> <v:formulas> <v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"> <v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"> <v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"> <v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"> <v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"> <v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"> <v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"> <v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"> </v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:f></v:formulas> <v:path gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect" o:extrusionok="f"> <o:lock aspectratio="t" v:ext="edit"> </o:lock></v:path></v:stroke></v:shapetype><v:shape alt="j0438273" id="Picture_x0020_1" o:spid="_x0000_i1025" style="height: 11.25pt; visibility: visible; width: 56.25pt;" type="#_x0000_t75"> <v:imagedata o:title="j0438273" src="file:///C:\Users\Owner\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.wmz"> </v:imagedata></v:shape></span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony felt like hell, his stomach churning, and the pounding in his temples threatening to turn into an all-out migraine. When Mama slowed for an intersection, glanced at him and saw his eyes closing, she pulled her fully restored 1964, British racing green, Bugeye Sprite to the side of the road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You didn’t tell me how much you drank last night. I have something that will help.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Reaching for her purse, she retrieved an ornate, metal container filled with brownish powder. After dumping some into her palm, she bent over the stick shift and blew it up his nose. The hit caused his eyes to open widely. When he took a deep breath and popped his neck, she handed him two aspirins and a silver flask. After downing the aspirins, he took a deep swig from the flask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Old Billy Goat,” she said when his eyes crossed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama continued watching him until a smile appeared on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I swear, Mama, you got the best hangover remedies in New Orleans.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“In the world,” she said with a grin. “Are you going to make it now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Hell, I feel so good all of a sudden maybe I should take a cab back to Venus’ and go another round.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You’re already in enough trouble as it is. Even Mama’s going to have a difficult time extricating you from this little problem.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama had the top down on the Sprite, glimmers of bright sunlight warming their necks. Despite the sun, it was chilly as they tooled toward City Park, Mama detouring through the recreational area on her way to Pontchartrain’s Lakeshore Drive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Wow!” Tony said. “The place looks beautiful.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Hard to imagine it was underwater for weeks following Katrina.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The large park teemed with visitors enjoying gardens, lakes, and oak trees draped with Spanish moss. A flock of snowy egrets rose up from a lagoon, their wings driving them skyward as the Sprite tooled past.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Maybe you need to tell me exactly what we’re about to do,” Tony said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“A close friend of mine has a problem.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Such as?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“She’s a bird hoarder.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony gave her a sharp look. “A what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Valerie is a veterinarian specializing in rare and exotic birds. The rich often buy expensive parrots and cockatoos, realizing once the novelty wears off they don’t like the hassle and noise the birds create. Some only see what a mistake they’ve made when they try to return them to the pet store where they bought them, or attempt to give them away. Valerie started taking in these avian rejects years ago. Now she has hundreds of birds.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Hundreds?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m not exaggerating. They’re all over her house, not to mention numerous cats and dogs their owners took to her clinic to have her put down.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Oh my God! I think I’m getting sick again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">As Mama turned on Lakeshore Drive, the scenic route that followed the banks of Lake Pontchartrain, she reached over and touched his wrist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You have to help me, Tony. Valerie is eccentric as hell, but she has the proverbial heart of gold.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What can I do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’ve thought this all through, and I have a plan. I want you to pretend to arrest her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony grimaced as he stroked the morning stubble on his cheek and gazed at a sailboat wafting in the breeze, far out on the lake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Sounds to me like a job for animal control.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“That would kill her. You have to promise you won’t take her in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You just said you want me to arrest her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama’s bouffant hair whipped in the breeze when she shook her head. “That isn’t what I said. I only want you to pretend to arrest her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Okay, tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do the best I can.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">When Mama reached Lakeshore Drive, she headed east to the entrance of an exclusive subdivision. Like City Park, Katrina had flooded many of the ultra-expensive homes. Because of their desirable location, most, but not all, had been restored. Others remained as empty shells, even years after the killer hurricane. Valerie lived in the biggest house on the block, surrounded by empty houses. Mama parked on the street.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Won’t seeing your car make her suspicious?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama laughed. “Though Valerie’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, she doesn’t have a lick of common sense. She’ll never put any of this together.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“And you have somewhere to go with the birds and animals?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“They’re all placed, either with the zoo, bird sanctuaries, or bird and animal lovers. They’ll all be well cared for. My psychiatrist friend and I will keep Valerie sedated until we convince her this is all for the best.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“She’s not gonna commit suicide, or something I’m going to feel guilty about for the rest of my life, is she?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Trust me, Tony.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama smiled when he said, “Last time I did I became the star performer in a voodoo sex extravaganza.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Not this time,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Okay, what else?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You have handcuffs?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“No.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Then take these,” she said, handing him a pair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m not even gonna ask where you got these.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama grinned. “You don’t need to know. Just cuff her and bring her out. I’ll take care of the rest.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“That’s it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Not exactly. I want you to scare her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony shook his head, got out of the car and headed for the front door, knocking instead of using the doorbell. A young woman answered on the third knock, her dark eyes looking at him suspiciously as she peeked through a gap in the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Who is it?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Water department. I need to check your pipes,” he said<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“There’s nothing wrong with my pipes,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Look, ma’am, I’m here on official business, and I don’t have time to argue with you. Now let me in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">When she opened the door for him, the jarring din of birds, many birds, accosted his ears. The large room he entered was empty except for several long perches that hung from the ceiling. The room resonated with chirps, squawks, and screeches. A large cockatoo landed on his shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I think he likes me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Valerie didn’t reply, grabbing the bird and scolding it severely before lofting it back to the perch from where it came.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“That’s Brutus,” she said, talking loudly, so he could hear her above the dissonance. “He’s a mean one. You could have lost an ear.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony’s hand went to his ear in an involuntary response.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“He’s a mean one!” the parrots began repeating.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Valerie shook her head. “Don’t say anything around here you don’t want repeated.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">As Tony listened, he started hearing everything from Polly want a cracker, to the most vulgar profanity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Are they always like this?” he asked, almost in a shout.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">She nodded. “Sometimes much worse.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Birds were flying around the room. Macaws and parrots, seemingly every color of the rainbow; cockatoos and other rare birds Tony didn’t recognize; parakeets, canaries, and exotics.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Why do you have so many?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m a vet. I specialize in rare birds. You’d be surprised how often their owners simply abandon them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony turned away briefly, so she wouldn’t see his smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“No, I wouldn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I know I have too many birds. You’re not going to report me, are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony saw his opening. Pulling out his badge, he showed it to her. “I’m afraid I’m going to do more than that. I’m placing you under arrest. Stick out your hands.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Valerie was a tiny woman, barely five feet tall with short, brown hair. When she extended her hands, Tony cuffed her. Her wrists and hands were so small she could have slipped out of them if she’d tried. She didn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I can’t go to jail. Who’ll care for my birds?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You need to worry about yourself, not the birds,” he said, pointing her toward the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What’ll happen to me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You’re going to do hard time, believe me. Maybe even Angola. This is as double-dog rotten as anything I’ve ever seen. The city can’t let you get away with it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“But I’m not hurting anyone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“That’s not for me to decide.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama and another woman dressed in a pin-striped, business dress waited outside the door, giving Tony dirty looks when he pushed Valerie to hurry her up. Several cars and vans had lined up on the street behind the Bugeye Sprite. Mama grabbed the little woman and hugged her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Oh Val, are you all right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Valerie began to cry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’ve been arrested. What’ll I do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I called your dad and Chloe’s here to help. We’ll do whatever we can for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The woman named Chloe, apparently Mama and Valerie’s psychiatrist friend, grabbed Valerie’s arm. After quickly administering a sedative, she gave Tony another dirty look and then hustled Valerie to an awaiting Mercedes limousine. When they reached the curb, a chauffeur opened the back door for them, returned to the driver’s seat and then hurried away, tires squealing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">More vans began arriving. As Mama and Tony watched, they immediately dispatched people dressed in work clothing and carrying nets to retrieve the birds and animals. As they passed on the sidewalk, Mama continued glaring at Tony.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What?” he finally asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You didn’t have to be so cruel to her. Couldn’t you see how frightened she was?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tony didn’t answer. Just shaking his head, he walked toward the Bugeye. After buckling her seatbelt, Mama patted his knee before driving away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t mean to snap at you. You did a fantastic job. I’m just upset because this is all so stressful.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Hey, don’t worry about it. If that was the worst shit I had to step in every day, then I’d be in heaven. What’s going to happen to Valerie?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“That was her dad in the limo. He’s extremely well-heeled, and they have an estate on the lake not far from here. We’ll soon have her convinced all her birds are in excellent homes, and this is for the best. Bird hoarding isn’t incurable. Chloe will work with her until she’s better.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama laughed when Tony said, “It was scary in there, and I’ll probably have bird nightmares the rest of my life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Maybe Chloe can work with you too,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I think I’d rather work out my own problems than deal with Chloe, thank you. She looked as if she could wrestle professionally.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Now that’s not very nice,” Mama said with a grin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Don’t be mad at me, Mama. I still need your help with Venus.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’ve been thinking about this,” she said. “She’s apparently attached to you. We need to break the attachment and then present her with someone else to tie herself to.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“And how do you propose to do that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Mama pulled the Bugeye to the side of the road, retrieved a pair of scissors from her large purse and proceeded to snip a lock from Tony’s hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What the hell!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Now, you need to bring me a lock of Venus’ hair, and a lock from someone you think might replace you when you’re gone. I’ll take care of the rest, though you’re going to have to deal with Lil on your own.”<br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-19238782710708394892018-07-03T09:47:00.002-05:002018-10-12T18:11:20.960-05:00Cities of the Dead-a New Orleans short story<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><b>INTRODUCTION</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I’ve long been a fan of short stories and penned my first attempt at the genre when I was only ten. I continued writing short fiction during high school and college, though none of the stories managed to survive the years. I can’t remember when I wrote my first short story featuring French Quarter sleuth Wyatt Thomas, but it was long before the publication of </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><a href="http://getbook.at/AmzBE">Big Easy</a></i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> in 2006. Once I started, I found it all but impossible to stop.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: red;"><b>~SPOILER ALERT~</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">When I decided to write </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Big Easy</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">, my first novel-length <a href="https://amzn.to/2rC4FNp">French Quarter Mystery</a>, I did so by combining parts of three New Orleans’ short stories: </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Cities of the Dead</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">, </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Voodoo Nights</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">, and </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Pontchartrain</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">. If you haven’t read </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Big Easy</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;"> and are considering doing so, then you should probably start it first before reading </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Cities of the Dead</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">If you’ve already read Big Easy, then you might get a kick out of <i>Cities of the Dead</i> as it’s different in many ways than the side-story in the novel.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Cities of the Dead<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Darkness draped Rue St. Ann as throngs of French Quarter tourists crowded the entrance to a Creole townhouse. Heat radiating from the stoop bothered Lieutenant Tony Nicosia. He mopped his brow as he watched paramedics remove two stretchers from the premises. The old man occupying one of the stretchers didn't notice the heat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">* * *<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">It started with Buddy DeJan's wake. Buddy was nearing seventy when a heart attack claimed him in his sleep. His wife Foxy called a wake for him at their house, near the spot where the Mississippi River meets the Gulf—the literal end of the road. I attended the wake with Buddy's cousin, Bertram Picou. As lights disappeared in our rear-view mirror, sub-tropical vegetation and endless splay channels gradually replaced them. Soon, there was no sense of civilization at all as scrub oak and cypress knobs replaced jazz and musty mortar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Distraught over his cousin's death, Bertram tippled Cuervo and sniveled all the way from the City. Having my own memories of Buddy and little patience for Bertram's stories I'd heard all before, I stared out the window, trying to block out his mindless chatter. When we reached the wake, his bottle was already empty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Foxy and Buddy lived in a fishing camp beside a murky channel that snaked into the Gulf. Wooden stilts raised their house above a soggy yard marked by muskrat hides, catfish bones, and flat-bottomed fishing skiffs. By midnight, the occasion had turned festive, with Bertram leading the charge. A black dress swathed Foxy DeJan’s large frame. She had long since discarded her shawl of mourning. Like many of the mourners crowding the room, she clasped a half-empty glass of bourbon in her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Black crepe-paper draped the front door, and clocks were stopped to coincide with the time of Buddy's passing. All mirrors faced the wall. Lying in his mahogany coffin, Buddy seemed more resplendent than in life. I slipped out of the house, seeking solitude in the darkness below. My trance shattered abruptly when someone tapped my shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I didn't mean to startle you,” the young woman said.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Guess I was thinking about Buddy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I see that. I'm Celeste Duples. Mr. DeJan and my Father were distant cousins.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Wyatt Thomas,” I said. “I didn't know Buddy had any relatives named Duples. You from around here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I grew up in Philadelphia with my mother. Now I live in Starkville. Daddy sells real estate. I teach at the college there. And you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I have a place in the Quarter and do odd jobs for people.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Such as?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Look up this. Research that. Most anything to earn a buck.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I stepped into the beam of the floodlight suspended from the roof. Celeste's green eyes sparkled in the light. She was tall, fully five-eight, and had jet black hair and an olive complexion that left little doubt of her French Acadian ancestry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“This wake seems so strange to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Ritual,” I said. “A mixture of Catholic, Protestant, and Judaism, with a smidgen of black magic from Africa and voodoo from Haiti.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Dueling strains of mandolin and accordion, saturating the damp air with a Cajun melody and silencing the chorus of frogs, floated down the stairs. A shooting star streaked across the sky, disappearing over the horizon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Buddy's wake will be a party before morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I won't last that long,” Celeste said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I wish I could leave, but I rode down with one of Buddy's closest cousins. He won't stop grieving till he OD's on Cuervo.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">My description of Bertram's alcoholic inclinations amused Celeste. Leaning closer, she said, “We'll take you back.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I needed very little persuasion. After paying my last respects, I joined Celeste and her father in the driveway. He had the same strange last name as his daughter, and she called him Maurice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Celeste's maroon convertible left no chance for conversation. The breeze it produced was welcome after the smoky wake. I'd recently moved into an apartment over Bertram's bar. When Celeste and her father dropped me off, I didn't expect to see them again. I was wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Lady, Bertram's collie licked my hand, relieving any guilt about missing Buddy's funeral. Next morning I opened the bar for him, even managing to turn a small profit. Bertram showed up at noon. Hung-over and head pounding, he went straight to his apartment in back. I kept working until five when Maurice Duples strutted through the front door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Back-dropped by bright sunlight, he seemed different from the man whose shoulder I had pressed all the way back to the City. Although still wearing the same tweed sports coat, he had changed pants, shirt, and shoes. Now he sported combed gray hair and a fresh shave and greeted me by squeezing my hand in a vice-like grip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I was hoping I'd find you here,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Bertram's under the weather. I help out when I can.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Celeste said you were a good man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Celeste's praise secretly pleased me. “You aren't here to commend me on my benevolence. What can I do for you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Surprised by my directness, Duples gazed around Bertram's bar. “Celeste says you know a lot about New Orleans burial rituals.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“No more than anyone else in the City.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Am I correct in thinking you make a point in knowing things others don't?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Maybe.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Several people at Buddy's wake told me so. I’d like to visit a grave and thought you might be of assistance. I have no earthly idea where to find it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Then you're in trouble,” I said. “The city has dozens of cemeteries.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Precisely why I need your help. I'll pay your fee.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">He sat on a stool and sprawled his elbows on the zinc countertop. Exhaling, he rested his head in his hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">He smiled when I said, “You look like you could use a drink.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Maurice Duples was tall and slender. Thirty-five or forty years older than his daughter Celeste. I guessed his age at sixty-five or seventy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Red wine,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When I set the glass in front of him, he seemed almost asleep, his left hand dangling off the counter. Lady's warm tongue revived him, and he patted her head before sipping his wine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Interesting place,” he said, noting the severed ties, bras, panties and other intimate undergarments draped from the ceiling and mirror behind the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“New Orleans is an easy place to lose your inhibitions.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Duples smiled for the first time since I'd met him. “Celeste was conceived here. During a particularly eventful Mardi Gras.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“She said you live in Mississippi.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Born in New Orleans. My mother worked for a man named Duplessis. We lived with his family until she died. An aunt from Starkville took me in. I never knew my father or mother's burial place. I'm desperate to find her grave. Will you help me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I topped up his glass and said, “Anything else you remember about New Orleans?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Is that a yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Look, Mr. Duples, you don't need me. If you know your mother's name and her approximate date of death, you can go over to the Notarial Archives in the basement of the District Court and find where she's buried.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Tried that already. The two investigators I hired found nothing. If you can't help me, I don't know where I'll turn.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Why don't you tell me everything you remember and I'll do my best to help you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The look of desperation melted from Duples' face. When he latched on to my hand with both of his, I had the sudden sensation I was saving a drowning man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Thank you, Mr. Thomas, thank you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I poured myself a glass of lemonade from the stash under the counter and said, “Let's go to a booth and talk.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Duples and Lady followed me to the back of Bertram's bar. Most of Bertram's regulars never appeared before nine or ten at night. The place was empty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Now tell me what you remember.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Nothing much,” he said. “I was eleven when they buried her. Guess I’ve blocked most of the details from my memory.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Rest your head and relax. Close your eyes and focus on the muscles in your face. Imagine you have a warm towel resting there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Maurice Duples followed my suggestions, soon sinking into a low-grade trance. I continued speaking in modulated tones until his breathing and heart rate reduced to barely a whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You're a child again, at your mother's funeral. Tell me what you see.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Duples began reciting in the high-pitched voice of an eleven-year-old.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Rows of rectangular structures topped with crosses and Greek statues. Beautiful flowers with colors and smells you can almost feel, amid wide streets separating the structures. I see an impatient horse, snorting and kicking up grass with his hoof. He's pulling a black carriage. It's almost like a city. Everyone is crying, and dressed in black.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Is there a special statue you see, or maybe a nearby name you can read? Anything specific you remember?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Yes,” Duples said. “Hundreds of x marks on one of the structures.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Bingo. Having all I needed, I woke Duples from his trance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Amazing,” he said. “I feel wonderful. Better than I have in years. And I remember things now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You never really forgot. You just had them blocked.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">By now, Bertram was awake and cleaning up the bar with a wet rag. A few afternoon patrons straggled in, along with a curious sightseer or two. A street band, hoping to evoke donations from the throng of tourists filing into the French Quarter, fired up a hot jazz number outside. Maurice Duples was smiling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I haven't visited the cemetery since Mother's funeral. Now, I remember it vividly. It was almost like a little town, with rows of houses and narrow streets.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“That's why they're called Cities of the Dead. Since much of New Orleans is below sea level, the water table is close to the surface. Before the City set up a drainage system, the only recourse was to bury their dead in a puddle of water, or else above ground.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You said you knew where to find my mother's grave.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I know exactly where it is, in the St. Louis Cemetery # 1, over on Basin Street.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Pardon my skepticism, Mr. Thomas. How can you be so sure?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Number One is the oldest cemetery in the City. Many famous people are buried there—Etienne Bore, father of the sugar industry, and Homer Plessy, to name a couple. You may remember the pivotal cemetery scene from Easy Rider. It was filmed in the St. Louis # 1.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Duples didn't seem to know about Easy Rider or the two names I'd mentioned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Homer Plessy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Plessy v. Ferguson. An 1892 Supreme Court decision establishing separate-but-equal Jim Crow laws for blacks and whites in the South.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Sorry,” Duples said. “I'm in real estate, not a first-year law student.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Biting my tongue, I refrained from asking if he could read. Instead, I continued my explanation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Many of the rich and notables had expensive and ornate tombs built for their families. It's not uncommon to see forty-foot tall Greek statuary or tons of carved and polished stone. I was hoping you would remember a landmark tomb.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“But I didn't.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Yes, you did. You remembered seeing the most famous tomb in New Orleans—the crypt of Marie Laveau, queen of voodoo.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Light from the jukebox reflected off Duples’ deep green eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Take me there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“We'll go tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Duples folded his arms and shook his head. “I won't wait another day. Let’s go now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Impossible. It's near the Iberville Project and crime is rampant there. Even tomorrow we'll need to go with a group.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Not on your life, Mr. Thomas. I have a thousand dollars. It's yours if you take me now. If you don't, I'll find someone else who will.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Before I could answer, the educated voice of Celeste sounded from behind us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Such wild expressions on your faces, you both look ready to fight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">After leaving Duples' irresistible money with Bertram for safe-keeping, I accompanied Maurice and Celeste up Basin Street, past the Project to the St. Louis Cemetery # 1. Although closed to the public for the night, I knew the location of the caretaker's entrance. Duples had armed me with two vital bits of information: the probable location of his mother's grave and the name of a shadowy figure from his past. Arthur Duplessis was still alive, living on St. Ann's. Duples could look him up after we visited the grave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Last glimmers of the sun had disappeared over the trees as we opened a wrought-iron gate and entered the City of the Dead. Dormant pigeons roosting in eaves around the tombs barely budged as we passed. Bats strafed our heads with wildly beating wings. Up the street, a tomcat's screech momentarily silenced the cooing of pigeons.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Apparently unaware of our possible danger, Celeste sported a blissful smile on her pretty face. “If Marie Laveau's grave is unmarked, then how did you know Daddy saw it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Because it's covered with freshly-chalked x’s. The superstitious believe if you make a wish, along with marking an x on the grave, your wish will come true.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Celeste squeezed my hand. “What do you believe?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“That we should find your grandmother's grave and get the hell out of here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Is it that dangerous?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Her question went unanswered. By now it was dark, with only dim fluorescent street light and the powerful beam from my flashlight illuminating our path. We barely noticed two men as they appeared from the shadows in front of us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Well, what do we have here? Grave robbers or midnight mourners?” one of the men asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> Several missing teeth made his accent even more incomprehensible. It didn't stop his companion from laughing at the joke. His laughter died away when we tried to walk around them. They were big, mean and ugly. Even worse, both men had switchblades.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Where you think you're going?” the leader said, digging his knuckle into my breastbone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">To my surprise, Celeste knocked the man's hand away with the palm of her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Leave us alone. This is a public place.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Celeste's anger brought an even greater outburst of laughter from the two men.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Looky here Biggs. We got ourselves a sassy one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Jackson, we surely do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You heard the lady,” I said. “I'm an off-duty cop. Make trouble with us at your own risk.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I forced as much authority into my voice as I could and it had some effect. Biggs and Jackson both took half-steps backward. The NOPD is notorious. That's spelled b–a–d, with a capital B. The force had even turned back a group of Hell's Angels at the City limits, preventing them from attending and disrupting Mardi Gras. I was counting on my bluff to get us safely out of the cemetery. Something else saved us instead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Two pistol shots fired directly behind my head almost caused me to lose my lemonade. Diving for the turf, I wrestled Celeste down with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Run or I'll blow your heads off, you lice-infested ghouls.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> It was Maurice Duples, screaming like a banshee and firing an old German Luger into the air. Biggs and Jackson didn't wait around. They took Celeste's smile with them and she trembled as I helped her up. Sirens wailed in the distance. They weren't coming our way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Are they gone?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Yes. Now let's get out of here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Not until I see my mother's grave.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Celeste and I stared at her father's eyes, now wildly green amid dim light from the street.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Celeste continued to shake. When I put my arm around her, my own racing heart did little to abate her chill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“This is frightening your daughter. I'll bring you back tomorrow. And what are you doing with that gun?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“It saved our lives. Go on, if you're so frightened. And take Celeste with you. I'll find the grave by myself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When I nudged Celeste toward the street, she shook her head. “We can't leave him here by himself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“He has the gun,” I reminded her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Celeste ignored my comment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Maurice Duples struck out alone, trudging blindly along the path lined with broken shells. Celeste and I followed after him. We weren't far from Marie Laveau's grave when Duple's demented yell pealed through the cemetery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Here it is!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">We found him squatting by a large tomb bedecked with faded marble, and statues of Greek gods. Celeste knelt beside him, her hands on his shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“What is it, Daddy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“The name,” he said. “It's not our name. Someone removed my mother's remains from her grave. Why would anyone do that to her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Duples was possibly correct. During the plague years of the 1800s, with cemetery space at a premium, residents often sold or bartered tomb rights to the more prosperous. This practice continued until recent times, bones being moved hither and yon, often to who-knows-where. Strangely, the names of Arthur and Megan Duplessis were engraved in stone on the tomb, their deaths as yet unrecorded. The couple Maurice and his mother had lived with had apparently taken her grave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Probably a mistake,” I said. “We'll check the Notarial Archives tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">After helping Maurice and Celeste to their feet, I pointed the flashlight back from where we had come. It reflected off of Marie Laveau's grave. Celeste stopped beside it. Maurice and I watched as she took a fragment of chalk from the sidewalk, closed her eyes and made a large x on the side of the tomb.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I tossed and turned after finally making it to bed, somehow sensing the night had yet to end. It hadn't. At midnight I received a frantic call from Celeste.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Daddy's gone crazy. He went storming out of here with his pistol to find Arthur Duplessis.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Meet me at the corner of Bourbon and St. Ann,” I said, pulling on my pants. “Just down the street from your hotel. I'll be there in ten minutes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">We found the door to the Duplessis townhouse on St. Ann open and entered without knocking. Duples stood braced against the wall, pointing his pistol at an old man in a rattan wheelchair. A ratty Afghan draped the man's legs and he showed no fear. His face was contorted in a crooked grin every bit as deranged as Duples'.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Duples waved his gun at us in a menacing fashion. Remembering the incident at the cemetery, I pinned Celeste against the wall with the back of my arm. Duplessis spoke, returning Maurice's attention to the center of the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You wanna kill me? Go ahead. I'm ninety next month,” he said, giving his useless legs a hard slap with the flat of his hand. “I already done more living than any three men.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I'll kill you, all right, but not before you tell me why you moved my mother's remains.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You crazy? Who are you, anyway?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Maurice Duples. My mother's name was Emeline, but you already know that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Arthur Duplessis's rheumy old eyes glimmered with sudden recognition in the light of the suppressed overhead bulb.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You about a dumb one, you. You mama was a whore over in Storyville until they bulldozed the place to the ground.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You're a liar.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Don't call your own father a liar.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Duples opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Outside the door, a horse-drawn carriage clomped by on the street. It was followed by a dog howling over near the Iberville Project.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Don't look so surprised,” Duplessis said. “You think your name was Duples all these years? What kind of dumb name is that? You mama was my whore and you're my bastard boy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Duplessis howled with laughter and it drew into a hacking cough. When the coughing abated, he started to speak but never got the words out. A terrific blast rocked the room, knocking the old man out of his wheelchair and blowing him against the wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Celeste and I turned to Maurice Duples but he looked every bit as stunned as we were. Both barrels of a twelve-gauge shotgun had blasted Duplessis. A gray-haired old woman, dressed in tattered silk, stood tall and without emotion. She was still clutching the smoking gun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“He's the bastard, not you. I should have killed him twenty years ago. He kept your mama and others like her. He never gave a whit for my feelings or theirs.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Megan Duplessis let the shotgun slide to the floor and crossed the room to where stunned Maurice stood, still braced against the wall. When she touched his cheek, he dropped the pistol to the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I want you to know, your mama's still in that tomb. The old man just had her bones pushed to the back of the vault. I raised you as my son until the old man sent you away to Mississippi.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">She went to her fallen husband, kneeling and giving his lifeless cheek a final kiss before clutching her heart, gasping once and sinking to the floor beside him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Lieutenant Tony Nicosia gave me a go-to-hell look when he and the NOPD finally arrived. Between stilted explanations, deftly omitting why we were there in the first place, I spirited Maurice Duples' pistol off the floor and into my jacket. Arthur and Megan ranked high in the City's elite. Because of this, the police would conveniently overlook the fact that the old man had died from a shotgun blast. His death, subsequently resulting in Megan's untimely heart attack, would go down as accidental.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Other than some puritanical need to punish Maurice for his temporary insanity, I saw no reason to involve him further in his father’s death. New Orleans has few Puritans. I wasn't one of them. While escorting Maurice and his daughter to the hospital to attend Megan Duplessis, Celeste informed me the real reason I covered up for her father.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“The x I made on Marie Laveau's tomb. I wished my father would find out about his family so his bad memories would go away. And I wished for a happy ending.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Watching Maurice hold Megan Duplessis’ hand in the back of the ambulance, I realized Celeste had gotten her wish. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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Years ago, I wrote a short story called Prairie Justice. I had almost forgotten the story and found it again, recently, while deleting unnecessary files from my computer. As I reread and re-edited the story, details of why I wrote it in the first place flooded my brain.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The year was 1995. During April of that year, a madman blew up the Alfred P. Murrah Building, killing 168 innocent victims, including many children in daycare there. Anne, my wife then, was a fledgling lawyer, having gone to law school late in life (mid-forties). She partnered with Becky S., and we were about to move into our new offices when the bomb exploded.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I had returned home from an early-morning dentist’s appointment. I found Anne sobbing uncontrollably.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was puzzled because Anne was a trooper. Despite all the bad things that had happened to us, I don’t recall having ever seen her cry. When I saw her that morning, she was crying like a baby.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“What’s the matter?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I don’t know,” she said. “Something terrible has happened.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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We turned on the TV to a local news station. Their helicopter was heading downtown to check out an explosion that had rocked the city.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“There’s lots of smoke coming from one of the buildings. I think it’s the Federal Building,” the chopper pilot said.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A cameraman was taking pictures. Except for the smoke, the front of the building looked normal. We watched as the chopper circled around the building. When the camera focused on what remained of the north side of the building, Anne and I gasped in disbelief.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Oh my God!” the pilot said. “Oh my God!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Days passed, and then weeks. The bombing was like a blow to the head for the entire City. It became all too common to be talking to someone, and suddenly have them dissolve into tears, blurting out some heart-wrenching story they’d kept bottled inside for far too long. Everyone had a story. Everyone was affected.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Shortly after the bombing, Becky sent Anne to interview a deadbeat, druggie client that had been put in jail for beating his wife.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You may think he’s scum, but he deserves his day in court. He’s your client so treat him with respect, no matter how you feel about him in your heart,” Becky counseled.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anne and I left Oklahoma City early one morning, heading west to El Reno, the Canadian County seat. I can’t even remember why we stopped there, but I remember the courthouse facilities and the historic town well. Leaving El Reno, we passed a Las Vegas-style bingo hall in nearby Concho. Gambling was in its infancy in Oklahoma. Sixteen years later, it’s rampant.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We drove through the tiny town of Okarche, to Eischen’s Bar. The longest continuously operating bar in Oklahoma was shut down at the time because of a flash fire. We made it to Enid shortly before lunch, finding the correction’s facility ensconced in an old neighborhood.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The jailers brought Doug (that was his first name) into a visitor’s room, wearing an orange jumpsuit, shackled in leg irons, handcuffs and a belly chain. I watched from a distance as Anne talked with him for about half an hour. Wearing her own shackles of lawyer/client privilege, she never told me what they talked about.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Later that night, I wrote Prairie Justice, a short story featuring Buck McDivit, a character that had suddenly invaded my mind. The story is about a crooked oilman and mirrors a real oilman responsible for the bankruptcy of the oil company Anne and I started from scratch. Most of the description in the story actually occurred.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Years have passed since I wrote Prairie Justice. Anne died three years after the Murrah bombing. I wrote Ghost of a Chance, my first Buck McDivit novel, some years later. It was published in 2005. The scar of the 1995 Oklahoma City Bombing has faded. Tears streamed down my face as I wrote this story. Buck McDivit is now a real person to me. The Murrah Building scar has faded, and people no longer sob during normal conversation. Maybe, but the bombing still rests like a red blotch on my soul, as I’m sure it does for everyone that experienced that sad day.<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"> It’s a gray day here in Oklahoma, my two kitties, Buster and Buttercup, searching for even a scant patch of sunlight in which to bask. The gloom reminds me of a search I made many years ago that resulted in an eerie discovery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">A chill weekend in November found Gail, my ex, and me deep in a pine forest in southwest Arkansas. A graduate student in geology, my thesis concerned long-forgotten mineral deposits in a sparsely populated corner of the universe. Years before the invention of </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 9pt;">GPS</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"> tracking devices, we relied on a very old Brunton compass to navigate through the stark loneliness of the southern Ouachita Mountains.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Tall trees, mostly pines, covered the rolling terrain. While the Ouachitas aren’t high, rapid elevation changes of several hundred feet are common. We were moving slowly, picking our way through the undergrowth as we traversed an east-west trending ridgeline, looking for an old lead mine hidden deep in the forest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Gail was short, had green eyes, dark hair and an olive complexion inherited from her French-Acadian parents. Though raised in the New Orleans’ metro area, her athletic legs carried her through the forest as smoothly as if she’d been born there. She was walking ahead of me, and I bumped into her when she halted abruptly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“How do you know where we’re going?” she asked. “There’s no trail. I think we’re lost.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">I was holding an old topo map in one hand and the Brunton compass in the other. “We’re following an azimuth. The mine should be just up ahead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“That’s what you said thirty minutes ago,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“It’s hard staying in a straight line with so many trees and boulders in the way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Tell me about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Let’s keep walking,” I said. “We’ll find it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">I was about to give up when we reached a slight clearing that led down the slope to a roaring stream. There was something anomalous about the rounded pile of dirt located in a bend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“That has to be it,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“That pile of dirt?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Someone dug that dirt out of the ground and put it there. I think it’s the mine we’re looking for.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Doesn’t look like a mine to me,” Gail said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Quit bitching and let’s investigate. Even if it’s not the Davis Mine, we can at least take a break.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Gail had endless energy and rarely ever took a break. As I sat on a fallen log and tossed pebbles into the roaring water of the creek, she climbed up on the pile of dirt and began exploring it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“This hill’s bigger than it looks,” she said. “It follows the river for at least fifty yards.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“I’m sure it was built by humans,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Hell yeah,” she said. “Look at this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Glancing up the hill, I could see Gail had something in her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“What is it?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“An old bottle.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“How old?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Real old,” she said. “Looks like something from a museum.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">I left my perch on the stump and followed her up the hill. The bottle was faded green and crusted with dirt. I was still examining it when Gail called again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Check this out,” she said, holding up something for me to see.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“What is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“What’s left of a Confederate soldier’s shirt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“How do you know that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“There’s a brass button still attached with the letters </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 9pt;">C.S.A.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">The weathered hill was the talus pile of an old mine. A scar, roughly a half-acre in size, was all that remained of the old mining operation. Vertical shafts had collapsed or were filled with standing water. We soon began digging beautiful ore specimens out of the talus pile strewn with old bottles, broken timbers and a few faded signs of the men that had worked it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“How did anyone ever find this place?” Gail asked when she finally stopped for a break.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Prospectors searching for silver in the </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 9pt;">1830s</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"> found lead and antimony instead,” I said. “This particular mine used horses and slave labor to mine lead for the Confederacy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“The old man at the truck stop told us we’d never find this place, and that it’s haunted,” Gail said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Well, we did find it. Don’t know about any ghosts, though the accounts of operations at the Davis Mine refer to abuse, torture and even murder of Union prisoners of war conscripted to work here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Then maybe it is haunted.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Maybe so,” I said. “The shadows and silence are starting to creep me out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Me too,” Gail said. “I keep looking around, thinking someone’s behind me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">It was already past noon when we found the old mine, days short and our time limited before we needed to start back to the truck. We took photos and collected specimens, all the while feeling as if there was something present other than ourselves, even if it was only fleeting shadows. The distinct sensation that we were disturbing a place where something terrible had happened was unmistakable. I felt it, and so did Gail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">I jumped when she said, “Oh, shit!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“What is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“You better come see. I’m not touching this thing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">She was standing on the top of the pile, nudging something with the toe of her boot. Though mostly covered with dirt, it looked for all the world like a human skull.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Shit is right,” I said, digging the skull out of the earth with my pick hammer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Is that a bullet hole?” Gail asked as I held the skull in my hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Looks like it to me,” I said. “But hell if I know for sure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“What are we going to do with it?” Gail asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">I tossed it into the creek, staring at the rapidly rushing water a moment before answering.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Forget we found it,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Can we do that?” Gail asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“I have a thesis to write and no time to participate in a murder investigation. I don’t intend to ever return to this place except maybe in my nightmares.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“I hear that,” Gail said. “Let’s get the hell out of here before it gets dark.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Twilight draped the forest when we finally made it back to our old faded green Ford truck, waiting for us on a muddy dirt road. When we returned to Fayetteville, I sent some of the ore samples to the </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 9pt;">U.S.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"> Geological Survey in Denver for analysis. The results surprised me as I’m sure they would have the prospectors that discovered the Davis Mine. The ore wasn’t just lead and antimony; there was silver present, and it was richer even than ore from the Comstock Lode.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Many years have passed since Gail, and I felt the presence of ghosts at the remote Davis Mine, hidden deep in the Ouachita Mountains of Arkansas. Today, as an overhead cloud cast a shadow on my kittens, sleeping on the hood of my car, I remembered in vivid detail.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"><b>P.S</b>. - I'd just returned home from a stint as an infantry foot soldier in Vietnam before enrolling at the University of Arkansas. My year-long exploration of the Ouachita Mountains in southwest Arkansas, one of the wildest and most remote parts of the continental United States, and my months in the steaming jungles of Southeast Asia prompted me to write <a href="http://bit.ly/2njIxVo">A Gathering of Diamonds</a>, an adventure novel in the vein of Jules Verne and Edgar Rice Burroughs. If you like mystery, history, and high adventure I urge you to check it out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-74814595548023408222018-05-26T18:26:00.000-05:002018-10-12T18:12:42.581-05:00MACHINE GUN - Vietnam War Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> I was in graduate school working on a Master’s degree in geology in 1969 when the first Vietnam draft lottery was held. Having already graduated with my bachelor’s degree, I no longer had a 2-S deferment from the military. My draft number was 38 and I was called up to the military shortly after the lottery in December. I believe in our country but didn’t believe in what I considered to be an absolutely senseless war. Because of this, I declined repeated offers to go to officer’s training school. I went instead to basic training and advanced infantry training at Fort Polk, Louisiana and was on my way to Vietnam by the summer of 1970 as a private. I spent just short of six months in the boonies patrolling the Jolly Trail system near the Cambodian border. During my months in a “free fire zone” I made 52 combat assaults out of a helicopter, earning an Air Medal and the Combat Infantryman’s Badge, for both of which I am very proud. Amazingly, I was neither killed nor wounded. Since I was and still am a crack typist—a skill that serves me well now that I’m a writer—I got a job back in the rear as a clerk-typist when an opening came up. After coming home, many years passed before I told anyone that I was a Vietnam vet. This is because Vietnam vets were all thought to be drug-crazed baby killers and all manner of other nasty things. I don’t know, but I think this was also true for both World War II and Korean War vets. I’m so glad that the perception of people serving in our military has changed for the better. Whatever, I was proud to be of service to the country that I love. Just remember that freedom isn’t free.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Machine Gun<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I watched a program on the cable channel Encore about Jimi Hendrix and the Band of Gypsies. On the show, he played a song called <i>Machine Gun,</i> and it evoked a memory of <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:place></st1:country-region> that I hadn’t thought about in years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I went to Vietnam in 1970 as an infantry mortar man. For a while, in addition to my M16, I humped the base plate of an 81 MM mortar in the mortar platoon of an infantry line company. I was in Charlie Company, 1<sup>st</sup> of the 8<sup>th</sup> Cavalry, First Cavalry Air Mobile. We were operating off a hill bulldozed bald amid a jungle of green that could literally swallow you whole. The Cav had just made their first sanctioned incursion into formerly off-limits Cambodia, and we had dealt a near-mortal blow to Charlie. For the following months, Charlie played a game of duck-and-run while we tried desperately, and with little luck, to finish him off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">After several months of fifteen days in the jungle, five days on the firebase, and almost no success in encountering the enemy, Brass devised a new tactic of having us fly around in helicopters until we started taking ground-to-air fire. Once we did, the choppers would swoop down and drop us off in hopes of making contact—something that rarely happened because of Charlie’s weakened state.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">During this time, Brass also decided the 81 MM mortar was too unwieldy for rapid deployment, and all of us in the mortar company suddenly became infantry foot soldiers, grunts, 11-bravos; also known as 11-bullet-stoppers. I was given a twenty-six pound M-60 machine gun to carry since I already had experience toting a twenty-three-pound base plate. I had never shot an M-60, even during basic training at Fort Polk in Louisiana. This is because mortar men weren’t ever supposed to use the gun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Around this time artillery began shooting sophisticated listening devices into the jungle using specially designed 105 MM rounds. Intelligence mapped the locations of these devices, and we soon had a good idea of where there was movement—of a military nature—in the jungle. The devices weren’t always correct, and we once found a large family of monkeys instead of Viet Cong or North Vietnamese regulars. This wasn’t always the case.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Reports of intense enemy troop movement in a nearby swamp had the Brass salivating. My company was soon loaded into choppers, flown to the area and dropped out of the birds. I mean this literally. With no landing zone cut into the jungle for us to land and deploy from, the choppers hovered 10 feet or so above a large swampy pond while we jumped out. This was no easy feat while carrying 100 pounds of gear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">We soon found ourselves in a maze of trails and something very anomalous— there was movement all around us. Charlie wasn’t even trying to cover it up. This could only mean one of two things: Either we had caught the enemy very much by surprise, or else they had us outnumbered and knew it. We were all pretty nervous because one thing we had never really done was catch Charlie by surprise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Our company had about 100 men divided equally into four platoons. We set up a camp, and then my platoon started out on patrol. Soon as we were out of sight from the rest of the company we began hearing even more movement. After months in the boonies, we were all attuned to sounds of the jungle. Now, there was no doubt in my mind that there was a large number of enemy soldiers very close to us, and that they were paralleling our movement through the jungle. This bothered me and everyone else because we were on Charlie’s home turf—likely smack-dab in the middle of a large enemy camp and staging area. We could hear movement in every direction, and if I told you that I was anything but piss-in-my-pants scared, I’d be lying through my teeth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Jungle warfare is like no other. You can be 10 feet from the enemy and never see him. You have to rely on your nose, your ears, and your wits because otherwise, you may as well be blind. My nose, ears, and wits told me we were about to have the living shit kicked out of us and I expected, any minute, to be shredded by AK 47 bullets. The platoon leader decided on a quick ploy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I was the machine gunner, the “Gun.” When Super Sarge tapped my shoulder and pointed to a slight concave just to the side of the trail, I knew my time had come. We quickly prepared for what we called an instant ambush. Charlie was following close behind. My assistant gunner and I set the M-60’s bi-pod and started stringing every round of ammo we had into the gun’s chamber, locked and loaded, ready to kill—and just as likely, I knew, to be killed. It didn’t matter that I’d never pulled the trigger on an M-60. What mattered was that I was getting ready to. Just as quickly as the sergeant tapped my shoulder and motioned what he wanted, he left the two of us alone on the trail to mow down anyone coming up from behind. From the sounds we heard, we wouldn’t have long to wait.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I could tell you that we ambushed Charlie, wiped most of them out and sent them dropping their weapons and running for cover. That didn’t happen. What did happen is almost as strange but still true. It was monsoon season in Vietnam. Every day the skies would part, and rain would fall in torrents—almost like being under a waterfall. My finger was on the trigger of the M-60, my heart in my throat when it began to rain. My assistant gunner and I lay there on our bellies for an interminable time, rapidly flowing water soaking our fatigues. When the rain stopped, there was no sound. I mean none. Charlie had taken the opportunity to clear out, and we never heard him again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> That night we camped in the middle of the swamp, mosquitoes, and leeches sucking our blood. It rained so hard that Charlie could have gotten close enough to cut our throats and we wouldn’t have seen him. The next morning the Captain let me shoot the M-60, for practice, while we waited for the choppers to extract us. We stood single file, knee-deep in a wide pool of stagnating water. With five-hundred rounds locked and loaded, I stood like Rambo, the big gun at my waist, and began mowing down vegetation across the pond. I didn’t take my finger off the trigger until the sound of imminent death finally ceased and the pungent odor of spent rounds wafted up into my nostrils.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">It was the first and last time that I ever shot the big gun, though I’ll never forget the sound it made or the power of life and death I felt, and that will never leave me for as long as I live.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Tonight, while watching the piece on Jimi Hendrix, I remembered that sound and that feeling, and it chilled my soul.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh30Cq1Bq98hXE0Xk7-qgO75kHa6GHqjdrVYgcY9wtVmR0VHZ8ZcvBbPY4PpWW-DLmwBt41tUrralLn9kUx-8N19qj8dTEpd5szGeylahhgs07EGq7pKsopCAmsz8Kdih8gl15H/s1600/Triple+X.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="349" data-original-width="494" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh30Cq1Bq98hXE0Xk7-qgO75kHa6GHqjdrVYgcY9wtVmR0VHZ8ZcvBbPY4PpWW-DLmwBt41tUrralLn9kUx-8N19qj8dTEpd5szGeylahhgs07EGq7pKsopCAmsz8Kdih8gl15H/s200/Triple+X.png" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">It’s been said that the biggest sex organ in the body is the brain. Years ago, I had reason to confirm that claim.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Miss Carol and I were a number, but we were beginning to get on each other’s nerves. She was smart, confident and good looking. I was simply young and dumb. Even though we worked in the same industry, the biggest attraction we had for each other was sex, pure and simple.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Six months had passed in our relationship, and the attraction had begun to wane. Both of us, it seemed, was searching for a way to let the other down easy. My friend Joel was in town from Colorado and staying with me. I was divorced, but my ex and I had not yet sold our house. We were taking turns staying there until we found a buyer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Miss Carol’s friend Miss Ann took Joel with her to one of our favorite bars. Miss Carol and I were supposed to join them. It was Friday night, Miss Carol a lease broker who had just returned to town from a week of checking records in Roger Mills County, had been doing her thing during that time, and I mine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“I just want to go home and go to bed,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“What about Joel and Miss Ann?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“They don’t need us,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Let’s drive over anyway. Joel can ride back with me, and Miss Ann can take you home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Fine,” she said, “But I’m not staying.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">On the way to the club, I caught a whiff of her perfume and suddenly remembered why I liked her so much. We were on 10th street, an area in Oklahoma City populated by strip bars and seedy hole-in-the-walls. About that time, we passed a stand-alone X-rated movie theatre.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Have you ever seen a porn movie?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“I’m not ten,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">On a whim, I pulled into the parking lot. “Let’s go in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Miss Carol grinned. She was trying to dump me but had just enough kink to consider my offer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Okay, Perv,” she said. “You’ll say uncle before me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">The XXX Theatre was a single-storied building with a very dark lobby. We purchased two tickets from the disinterested ticket puncher who had likely seen it all before. The theater was small and dark and smelled like urine. A naked man and an equally unclad woman were going at it on the screen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">There were probably ten patrons in the theater. All weirdos and not people you’d want to call friends. Miss Carol and I found an empty aisle and settled in to watch the movie. The couple on screen was performing every sex act imaginable, complete with grunts, groans, moans, and even a few screams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">As I began getting into the flick, I put my hand between Miss Carol’s legs, groping her most private parts, fully expecting a slap in the face. Instead, she began licking my neck. Before long, we both had our jeans pulled down to our knees, helplessly locked in the throws of hot, mindless sex right there in the middle of an x-rated theater, surrounded by perverts with their own pants down to their knees. We were shocked back to reality by a raspy voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Real sex ain’t allowed in here. Take it outside, or I’ll have to call the cops,” the man from the ticket booth told us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">I was having trouble discerning the difference between real sex and sex on the screen as we headed for the lobby. Didn’t really matter, faces burning and buttoning our jeans as we went. We were both still hot. Hell! My head was about to explode! I was all over Miss Carol soon as the doors of my car closed. She was as hot as I was, and I’m not sure who was all over whom. Our passion continued, the windows steaming like a sauna when someone tapped on the door. It was a cop. He wasn’t smiling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Take it to the house, and I mean now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Our ardor hadn’t waned when we made it home, spending the rest of the night locked in hot passion. Joel interrupted our ardor, knocking on the door around two in the morning. I let him in and quickly returned to the bedroom without bothering to hear the story he wanted to tell me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Do I recommend a triple-X experience? I’ll just say this. It won’t save a relationship, but it’ll sure make for unforgettable memories. Miss Carol and I broke up shortly after our night of red-hot passion. My lust had dissolved and my brain again able to add two and two and not come up with five.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large;">Horror becomes reality when a dark stranger rings the doorbell during a winter snowstorm.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 16px;"><b>Blue Norther</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 16px;">Dark clouds of an approaching Blue Norther gathered outside the window as Linda watched her husband pace worried circles around their living room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Please, Ted, don't go out tonight. The weather's awful and getting worse by the minute."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ted stopped pacing and frowned. "No option. Big meeting at the bank."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Friday night at seven?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Both Ted and Linda glanced up at their precocious nineteen-year-old daughter Britta. One year beyond high school graduation, she still lived with them. She glanced over the balcony, naked except for a pair of lacy panties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Linda said, "Britta! Put some clothes on."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta pranced back to her room, returning with one of her father's starched white shirts over the panties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Hot date, Dad?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta's jesting implication caused Linda's gaze to return to the pot on the stove. Ted didn't seem to mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"I have an important meeting at the bank, young lady."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Even Gramps wouldn't call a meeting on a night like this."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Your grandfather may own the bank, but he doesn't run it any longer. I'm president now. I call the meetings when I see fit."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Whoa!" Britta squealed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Have you done your homework?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"I graduated a year ago, Mom. Remember?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Just being facetious."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"I have a date tonight with Freddy."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"You can't go out in this awful weather. I won't allow it."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"I'm nineteen. I make my own decisions now. Remember?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"As long as you live here you should at least listen to your mother."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Dad, will you please tell her to stuff it?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ted glanced at his watch before replying. After winking at his daughter, he said, "Britta's a grown woman. Cut her a little slack."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Thanks, Dad," Britta said, blowing him a kiss and disappearing into her room before Linda could protest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ted cracked the curtain and peeked out the window.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Can you fix me a drink?" he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Linda swallowed her annoyance on the way to the liquor cabinet, pouring one for each of them. She touched his hand when she gave him the vodka.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"You know I don't sleep well when you're away."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ted returned to the window, ignoring her distress. "How did the weather turn so bad, so fast? The sun was out when I left the office."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Drifting snow had already begun piling up against fences and houses. "Blue Norther," she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ted saluted the snow with a raised glass. "Got that right,"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"See how bad it's getting? Please stay home tonight."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">She returned to the kitchen without an answer. Linda was different from her daughter. Soft and silky smooth compared with Britta's lithe body and her all-over tan. Long, bottle-lightened hair draped her shoulders. Britta's hair was short and surfer girl blond. Britta was a chatterbox, Linda introverted to the point of angering her husband.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"At least eat something before you go."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Rattling ice in his glass, he just stared out the window. "Maybe. If the weather doesn't get any worse."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The ringing of Britta's cell phone interrupted their conversation, and she returned to the banister. "Guess I'm staying home tonight. Freddy's battery is dead."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Good," Linda said. "At least I won't be all alone."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">They all turned to look when someone knocked on the front door. Ted opened it, finding a tall stranger waiting in the doorway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Help you?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Car broke down, and I lost my cell phone in the snow. Mind if I use your phone to call for help?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Let the poor man in and close the door," Linda called from the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Moving aside, Ted watched him remove his gloves and blow his hands to warm them. The young man's clean-cut good looks calmed any distress Linda may have had as she took his coat and pointed to the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Warm yourself by the stove. You look half frozen."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta shattered her concentration when she hurried downstairs to see who was there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Now I'm glad Freddy has a dead battery," she said, staring at the handsome stranger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ted frowned. "Britta, put some clothes on."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta frowned but trotted back upstairs as Linda followed the man into the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Coffee or hot tea?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Looking at her drink glass, he said, "I'd rather have what you're drinking."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Feeling an inexplicable attraction to him, she turned to the liquor cabinet to mix another drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"What do you drink?" she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Scotch, neat, if you have it."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"The phone is by the coffee pot," she said as she handed him the drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Without taking his eyes off her, he raised his glass in a silent toast. It brought an inexplicable flush to Linda's cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Phone's dead," he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Can't be," Linda said, concern replacing her facial flush. "Britta just had a call."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"On her cell phone," Ted said, walking up from behind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Linda jumped. Regaining her composure, she called upstairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Britta, is your phone working?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"No bars. Sorry."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Mine's not working either in this lousy weather," Ted said. "Guess you're out of luck. Sorry, we can't help."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta called from the banister. "Dad can take him into town. Invite the poor man to dinner, Mom."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Pardon my rudeness. Will you have dinner with us?" Linda asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Why not?" he said, his smile warming Linda's neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Then make yourself comfy. My pot roast is almost ready."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The stranger smiled again. This time, Ted noticed how it flustered her. She turned away, averting his frown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"How rude of me not to introduce ourselves. I'm Linda Stevenson, and this is my husband, Ted. The sassy young lady is my daughter, Britta."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">For an awkward moment, the man continued staring at her as he squeezed her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"I'm Dan Savage," he finally said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"I'm going upstairs and try the weather band," Ted said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Well," Linda said. "Guess we'll soon find out about the highways. Dinner won't be long."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">She smiled when she heard the rattling thump of logs added to the barren fireplace. Feeling almost guilty, she peeked through the door. As if he'd felt her gaze, Savage gave her a look that made her weak in the knees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Thought I'd heat things up," he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Before she could reply, Ted rushed down the stairs, bundled in coat and gloves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Can't wait for dinner. Got to go now. Storm's worsening by the minute. I'll drive you into town, Mr. Savage."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Dan Savage placed the last log in the fireplace and grabbed his coat hanging by the front door. Before he could button up, Britta rushed up from the basement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Wait, Daddy. We have a broken pipe downstairs."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ted banged the door with his clenched fist. "You can't be serious."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"No need missing your appointment," Savage said. "I'm handy with things. I'll fix it for you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Fantastic! You go ahead, Dad," Britta said. "Mr. Savage can repair the pipe and then stay the night in the spare bedroom. You can give him a ride into town tomorrow."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ted glare revealed his inner turmoil. After glancing at the cut of Savage's clothes and hair, he decided he was no ax murderer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Great. I'll take you into town tomorrow."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">He kissed Britta's forehead, ignoring Linda's folded arms as he went out the front door without a backward glance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Show me the pipe," Savage said, interrupting the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta led him to the basement. Despite Linda's concern, she experienced an almost forgotten flush of sexual excitement. The feeling embarrassed her as she returned to the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Unable to shake her growing sexual fantasy for the young man, she fixed him another drink and took it to the basement. She almost dropped it when she saw his bare chest. Stripped to the waist, he was making final adjustments on an exposed pipe. Britta, sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees, was also watching Savage's every move.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Thought you might need this," Linda said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Sweat trickled down Savage's muscled rib cage. Unnerved by his physical presence, she had trouble averting her gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Thanks," he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Savage stood six inches taller than Linda, had a strong jaw, thick brown hair and probably fifteen years younger. After tipping back the glass, he touched the icy surface to his forehead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Fixed," he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"You are good!" Britta squealed, wrapping her slender arms around his neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Linda's face flushed, jealousy her only emotion as she watched Savage and Britta embrace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Follow me, Mr. Savage, I'll show you the guest bedroom. You can shower, and I'll find some of my husband's clothes."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Call me Dan," he said, untangling from Britta and following Linda up the stairs, into the spare bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Towels are in the cabinet. Take your time."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Linda waited in the kitchen for twenty minutes before selecting a shirt and pants from her husband's closet. Returning to the guest bedroom, she tapped on the door and then entered without waiting for a reply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Through the cracked bathroom door, she heard Savage humming a silly tune. She eased it open; senses sharpened as she stared into the steam-filled room, her eyes focusing on his hazy shape. Standing with his back to her, he stared in the mirror, shaving cream on his face and razor in his hand. She watched his naked backside until he stopped humming and turned around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"See something you like?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Linda's face flushed bright red. After dropping Ted's clothes to the floor, she hurried out of the bathroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Dinner in ten minutes," she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">Twenty minutes later, Savage joined her in the kitchen. Though Ted's shirt and pants were too small, he didn't seem to mind.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Britta," she called. "Dinner is ready."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Wearing a sexy blouse and tight leather skirt, Britta danced into the dining room. "Where you from, Dan?" she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Here and there," he said, ladling corn from a bowl. "Mostly there."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta giggled, and Linda smiled. When they finished eating, Britta went upstairs, and Savage helped Linda with the dishes. They were soon together in the living room, basking in the warmth of the fireplace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Does your husband always have meetings on Friday night?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Savage's question earned him a nervous titter from Linda. "I've wondered that myself."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"The answer?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Reclining on the couch, knees bent, she rested her head in her palms. The posture caused her skirt to ride up on her thighs. She straightened when she realized Savage was staring at her legs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Sorry," Savage said with a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Linda's face was on fire, but it felt good and she realized she didn't want it to stop burning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Britta says he's having an affair," she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Is he?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Probably. I'll get you something to sleep in tonight."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"I usually sleep in the buff," he said<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Linda ignored his comment and Savage stretched out on the couch as she hurried upstairs. He was grinning when she returned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"You're bigger than Ted," she said, handing him the robe and pajamas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">He winked as he climbed the stairs to the bedroom. "Your husband has excellent taste. I can sleep naked if they don't fit."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Savage's words seared Linda's soul. Flushing with sexual warmth, she waited ten minutes. When he didn't return, she went to her bedroom, shutting the door but leaving it unlocked. Her body blazed as she squirmed beneath the sheets. She finally got out of bed and drew open the curtains.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The storm had more than arrived. She watched, perspiration beading her forehead as drifting snow piled up against the house. After returning to bed, she slipped into a restless dream, returning her to the shower scene:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">A steamy mist filled the room as Savage reached for her hand. When he touched her breasts, she awoke, tangled in the sheets and needing a drink. Not bothering with robe and slippers, she arose to get one. On her way to the stairs, she found something amiss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ted's office door was open. Peering inside, she switched on the desk lamp. Papers lay scattered on the floor. His floor safe stood open and empty. With trembling fingertips to stifle a scream, she touched her open mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"My God!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">When Linda discovered Ted's gun was missing, her hands began to tremble. She hurried to the guest bedroom and pushed open the door. She gasped when she heard the unmistakable sounds of lovemaking. Not only had the brazen stranger stolen their money, but he was raping her daughter. She reached for the light switch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Stop it now, you monster!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta sat bolt upright, shock on her pretty face. Savage grinned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Mother, how could you?" Britta said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Get out of that bed," Linda yelled. "Now!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Grabbing Britta's arm, she yanked her to the floor. Britta curled up in a ball to hide her nudity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Thief! How could you rob us and then rape my daughter?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"You kidding me, lady? The little bitch loves it."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"You're a liar," she said, scratching and flailing with arms and fists as he blocked her blows. When he slapped her and shoved her against the wall, she sank to the floor, wiping tears from her eyes and blood from a split lip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta sobbed as she lay crumpled in a naked heap beside the bed. Savage wiped the blood from three parallel scratches on his face. Linda crawled across the floor to her daughter. When she tried to put her hands on her shoulders, Britta wrenched away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"How could you do this to me?" she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Britta, you don't understand. This man is a thief."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"You only want him for yourself," Britta said, her tears returning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"That's not true."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"I hate you," Britta cried. "Just like Daddy hates you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Slamming the door behind her, she ran out of the room leaving her mother alone to glare at the thief on the bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"I'm calling the police."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Savage laughed, and it chilled her. "Phone's dead. Remember?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"It was you that cut the line." Savage didn't answer. "How did you know about the money and jewels we keep in the house?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Maybe you should ask Britta."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Linda froze. "What do you mean?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"You think I just met her tonight? We've been going at it like cats in heat for a month. We're taking the money and blowing this burg."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Liar!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Am I? How do you think I managed the broken pipe in the basement?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Feeling dizzy, Linda sank to the floor as he got dressed. She followed him out of the bedroom and down the stairs where Britta was waiting, suitcase packed. Savage grabbed his coat and opened the front door as the icy wind filled the hallway with blowing snow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Linda grabbed Britta's elbow. "Where are you going?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta shook loose from her grasp. "Away from you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"What will I tell your father?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Pivoting on her heels, Britta said, "Don't bother. He'll know why I left."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">"Please stop," Linda begged as her daughter trudged through the snow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Britta kept walking. Linda followed her into the brunt of the storm. When they reached a car parked on the street, Savage tossed the suitcase into the backseat. Linda grabbed Britta's arm, but she pulled away and climbed into the passenger seat, locking the door behind her. Banging on the window, Linda pleaded with her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Savage tried cranking the engine until it became apparent the battery was dead. Britta led him to the garage. Minutes later, Linda's silver Mercedes screamed away through the misty darkness, Linda chasing, barefooted through the snow, after them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Ted Stevenson returned next morning, easing his car into the driveway. In front of the house was a red Chevrolet, hood, and windows covered with snow, he hadn't noticed when he left. He also saw something else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">It was Linda, on her knees on the front porch dressed only in her sexy nightgown. Crystals of ice coating her body glistened like broken glass in the morning sunlight. One frozen hand clutched the door handle in a deadly embrace. Paralyzed by horror, Ted stared at her pallid face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">A strange smile lay frozen on her lips. Her eyes seemed to move, but it was only a frosty reflection. Rushing upstairs to check on Britta, he abandoned her to death's eternity and the frozen kiss of the departed blue Norther.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;">###</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author page. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/louisianamysterywriter" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Facebook Page</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-8361071928250559412018-05-10T21:38:00.000-05:002018-10-12T18:14:05.575-05:00Discarded Gold - a short short story<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Here is a piece of flash fiction I wrote decades ago when I was heavily into experimental fiction. Don't make too much of it because I'm not even totally sure of what message I was trying to convey. Ah, youth!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>Discarded Gold </b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Three old
men on a park bench watched as she strolled past. Blond, bouffant hair, the red
ribbon tying it matching her dress, tight and short. Replacing the magazine on
the rack, I hurried from the corner drugstore, chasing after her down the
street.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Wait,"
I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Executing a
perfect one-eighty pirouette, she faced me, curtsying, smiling. When she blew me
a kiss, I saw she was no more than
eighteen, and maybe younger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"You
dropped this."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Not
mine," she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Withdrawing
the bogus blue silk scarf, I basked in her green
ephemeral eyes, desperate to bite her puffed lower lip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Sorry.
Would you have a sundae with me?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Will
you take me home afterward?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"No
car," I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"How
old are you?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Old
enough to drive."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Can
you dance?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">We both
could, our swirling bodies colliding as intersecting cosmic rays beamed from a
ceiling strobe. Sweat beaded my brow. Our bodies, moving in time, touching,
caressing, becoming enamored, interacting, made love to the beat. The girl and
I kissed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Later, as
we walked along the beach, hypnotic moonbeams splayed crystal sand.
Midnight breakers crashed against the shore, rounding tiny quartz crystals
surviving from seamless streams that had never twice touched the same drop of
water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">A distant
fire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"I
don’t even know your name."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Emil,"
I said. "And yours?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Collette."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"I love
your eyes, Collette."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"What
else do you love?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"The
rest of you," I said, gazing across the moonlit water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Far out
across the bay, dolphins broke the rolling waves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"I’m
sixteen," she said, licking lips so red and swollen that they defied
gravity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"You’re
lying."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">She didn’t
bother denying my accusation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Behind us,
two gulls groused over a dead fish bobbing upside down in the surf.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Who
are we, Emil?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Two
people," I said. “Do you have to go home?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">“Do you?”
When I shook my head, she said, "Are we fated, Emil?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Let’s
have our cards read and find out."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Chipped red
paint lay behind the sign on the door that said SEER, Collette’s hand feeling warm
and grasping as I led her through it. A dark woman sat across a tiny table from us, greasy strands of black hair protruding from her red bandanna. She had a bulbous nose and puffy face, and
her high cheeks frowned. Malignant eyes stared at us across scarred and stained
oak. Liver-spotted hands nervously fingered frayed tarot cards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"I can
contact the spirits, but it will cost you
fifty."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Collette
punched me when I asked, "Don’t you know any cut-rate spirits?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">My pointed
sarcasm failed to faze Mother Midnight. Taking my five, she dealt the magic
cards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"The
moon is full," she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">When I gazed
at the ceiling only broken tiles stared back at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Are we
in love, Mother?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"We are
all in love," she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Mother’s
black cat wound through my legs as we exited into the back alley. Overturned
cans of trash reeked of spoiled fish. I stole a kiss and grasped Collette’s tiny hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Spirits
are weak tonight," I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"And
life is fragile," she said, exciting me further with an unexpected kiss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Multicolored
rockets exploded in the distance, momentarily startling a starless sky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Collette and
I held hands. High above reality, like multicolored balloons we floated,
unpunctured by sharp earthen prods.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"The
streets below are dark," I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"But
the sky above is light," she said, her smile colliding with red and green
reflections bounding away from flickering streetlights. "And my heart is
full." Before I could answer, she said, "I left my skates on the
street."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Leave
them," I said. "Thieves be damned."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">An
approaching streetcar with an ancient electrical heart struggled as it climbed
the steep hill on its way toward us. Raising a finger, I flagged it, grasped
Collette’s hand and pulling her through the door. Above us, the lazy sun split
the hazy dawn as Collette’s creamy thighs peeked from beneath her short red
skirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"I love
the dawn," she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Let’s
make love at my place," I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"We’re
making love now," she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"But we
have no music.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Then
you’re not listening."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Rush hour.
Carbon monoxide wafting up from endless vehicles pointing in straight lines
toward oblivion. The noise began filling my cavities of desire with mental
glue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"It’s
morning," she said<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Every
twenty-four hours," I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Must
this end?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Well,
I should go to work."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">"Does
your work usurp beauty?" she asked<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">Encroaching
noise drowned my answer as I stepped from the antique, watching as she waved from the door of the disappearing
streetcar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">An old gray
dog brushed my leg. When I reached to pat his
head, he turned and disappeared behind trashcans lining the nearby alleyway. Probably
in search of discarded gold hidden behind forgotten scraps of life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">###</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-67875690415493513922018-04-22T16:51:00.002-05:002018-10-12T18:16:54.906-05:00PONTCHARTRAIN - a New Orleans short story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><b>INTRODUCTION</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I’ve long been a fan of short stories and penned my first attempt at the genre when I was only ten. I continued writing short fiction during high school and college, though none of the stories managed to survive the years. I can’t remember when I wrote my first short story featuring French Quarter sleuth Wyatt Thomas, but it was long before the publication of </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><a href="http://getbook.at/AmzBE">Big Easy</a></i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> in 2006. Once I started, I found it all but impossible to stop.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><span style="color: red;"><b>~SPOILER ALERT~</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">When I decided to write </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Big Easy</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">, my first novel-length French Quarter Mystery, I did so by combining parts of three New Orleans’ short stories: </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Cities of the Dead</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">, </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Voodoo Nights</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">, and </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Pontchartrain</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">. If you haven’t read </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Big Easy</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;"> and are considering doing so, then you should probably start it first before reading </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">Pontchartrain</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; text-indent: 31.6667px;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">If you’ve already read Big Easy, then you might get a kick out of <i>Pontchartrain</i> as it’s different in many ways than the side-story in the novel. For one, it has a different ending and even a different girlfriend for Wyatt, the commitment-adverse private investigator. Carla Manetti, a librarian at </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">UNO</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">, is Wyatt’s former girlfriend in the short story. Though they’re still friends and continue to flirt with the possibility of continuing their rocky relationship, Carla has yet to go back to the French Quarter sleuth with roaming eyes. She did, however, play a seminal role in <a href="https://amzn.to/2rC4FNp">French Quarter Mystery</a> #4,<i> <a href="http://viewbook.at/BMW">Black Magic Woman</a></i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">PONTCHARTRAIN<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Smoke billowing from Dagobert’s Restaurant saturated the sky over Lake Pontchartrain with a stench of destruction and the odor of scorched hair and blistered skin. It was my own. The person staring at me from the upstairs window wasn’t so lucky. Trapped inside the building, her mouth gaped in a silent scream.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">It was a gray afternoon in the Big Easy, all overcast and misty, but not dreary enough to prevent me from enjoying the bus ride down Lakeshore Drive. Dark clouds were moving up from the Gulf and a stiff breeze already chopping Pontchartrain’s surface into a soapy-green froth. Boats still on the lake had lowered their sails and were making for shelter under engine power.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">A young woman and I were the only passengers, the driver, snapping his fingers and singing along with music from his headphone radio oblivious to both of us. When he let us off at West End Parkway, I opened my umbrella and watched him pull away in a puff of blue diesel smoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Where you headed? I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Dagobert’s,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Thunder rumbled, almost drowning her reply, as giant raindrops began falling, slowly at first, then faster.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “That’s where I’m going. Hurry and jump under here or you’ll get drenched before we get there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The woman had expressive eyes two shades darker than the storm clouds racing above us, and prevented her from hiding the uncertainty flashing from them. Too wet for her to refuse my offer, she crowded under the umbrella. The wind picked up as we passed the marina, jostling tethered boats and slapping sail lines against the furled canvas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I’m Wyatt Thomas,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Delphine Musson.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I was close enough to kiss Delphine Musson and near enough to see she was quite attractive, in a bookish sort of way. Louisiana sun had faded her curly hair a nondescript shade of blond, and it clashed with dark glasses rimming her eyes. Her strained smile and folded arms clued me she didn’t much care for small talk. It didn’t matter. We were nearing Dagobert’s, and I exchanged Ms. Musson’s silence for thoughts of fried oysters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">New Orleans cuisine is world famous, and the city has a secret of which Dagobert’s is a part. It is a haven for junkies. Fried-food junkies. They fry everything in the Big Easy—shrimp, oysters, catfish, hushpuppies and even top sirloin steak. The West End, on Lake Pontchartrain’s bank, is where many citizens satiate their craving for fried food, and Dagobert’s is arguably the best restaurant on the West End.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Steady rain quickly rendered us both, despite the umbrella, damp to the bone. My shoulder was soaked, pants and jacket doused by a motorist racing past us. Delphine pretended not to notice as we pushed through Dagobert’s big front door. Just in time as the storm had reached monsoon proportions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">We weren’t the only customers with a Friday night craving for fried seafood. Patrons jammed Dagobert’s entryway. No one seemed distressed by their wait, probably because the aroma of freshly battered seafood rolling in from the kitchen captivated their senses, locking them helplessly in place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“There’s an hour delay,” the door attendant said. “Would you like to wait in the bar?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Suits me,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">My curly-haired companion was obviously still reticent about our somewhat forced relationship. She edged away, toward the front door, worried I might ask her to join me. Her uneasiness was irresistible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “There won’t be another bus for a while. Join me at the bar? Inez mixes a mean margarita.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Delphine Musson’s arms were still tightly folded across her chest, her toes pointed toward the door. She looked as if she were about to make a run for it when rain blasted down the entryway, drenching everyone in line. Delphine jumped back so violently, she almost knocked me down. I had to grab her shoulders and brace myself to keep us both from falling. After steadying her on her feet, I released her and edged back into the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Not a fit night out for man or beast,” I said, pointing toward Dagobert’s dark bar. “There’s an empty table in the back. You take it. I need to speak with Berv Dagobert anyway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">My words roused the first positive response of the night from the young woman. “You know Bervard?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“All my life, his mom and dad before they died, and his little brother Perley.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Delphine Musson grabbed my forearm and clutched it with a firm grip for such a small woman. “Don’t leave,” she said. “I’d love to hear about Bervard and his family.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Confused by her sudden change of heart, I followed Delphine Musson into Dagobert’s bar, joining her at the table in the back as thunder shook the rafters, sucking oxygen from the room like a Cajun accordion. Delphine blinked, drawing a deep breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “How is it you know Berv?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“We met when I first moved to the city.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You’re not from </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 10.0pt;">N.O.</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">She shook her head, causing her curly hair to bounce like spaghetti in a colander. “Lafayette. I took a job at </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">UNO</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> after graduating from </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">USL</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Then you’re a professor?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Her thick curls had grown heavy from the humidity, bouncing again when she shook her head. “Librarian. Not very exciting, is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “An honorable profession.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “That’s what Bervard says. He’s an avid reader.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Though I’d known Berv Dagobert all my life, I couldn’t recall ever seeing him read either book or newspaper. After thinking about it, I wasn’t even sure he could read.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I didn’t know about Berv’s literary proclivities,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Delphine’s guileless smile hinted that she had completely missed my sarcasm. “Oh, he’s a man of many talents.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Before I could inquire what those talents might be, Inez Dagobert walked up to our table. Inez was Berv’s long-suffering wife and managed the little bar residing off the main dining room. I’d known her almost as long as the Dagobert family and had even dated her briefly in high school. She didn’t seem to notice me sitting there, her attention apparently focused on my pretty companion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Hi, Inez,” I said. “No smile for an old friend?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Turning her attention away from Delphine, Inez recognized me. She responded by wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“What are you doing here, stranger? I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Berv didn’t tell you? He said he’d spring for a catfish dinner if I could help him with a problem.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Inez was a big woman although not fat and certainly not obese. She wore her dark Cajun hair raked back into a severe bun, her loose-fitting clothes contrived to hide large breasts that apparently embarrassed her. Her piercing green eyes emulated the color of Pontchartrain just before sundown, and her determined efforts to conceal her abundant physical attributes failed miserably.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Inez’s smile faded into her dark olive complexion. “Wyatt, it’s a family matter. I wish you wouldn’t get involved.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You’re the boss, Miss Inez. I’ll tell Berv to go jump in the lake.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Inez still had her arms around my neck. Now she stretched them across my shoulders, kissing my forehead and drawing closer. Close enough that I could smell her perfume and feel the warmth radiating from her ample bosom. I also felt something else: possibly some unspoken pain throbbing deep in her heart. I pulled her closer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “What’s the matter?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“It’s Berv and Perley. They’re feuding. I don’t know what to do about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Hell, they’ve never stopped doing that. What else is new?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“It’s different now. Ever since Pop Dagobert died the boys hardly speak anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When Inez tried to draw away, I clutched her arms, not letting her go. “Tell me about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Not now,” she said, glaring at Delphine. “I’ll call you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Promise?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When I released her, Inez backed away. “I Promise. What are you drinking?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Have to ask? Your Margaritas, of course.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“With tequila or without?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“One regular and one unleaded,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Inez smiled for the first time, then winked and hurried away behind the carved mahogany counter that had dominated the room since I could remember.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “She’s very pretty,” Delphine said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Thunder rattled the windows, interrupting my thoughts and Delphine’s soft voice. It also drowned out my reply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You think Bervard still loves her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“They’ve been together twenty-five years.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“That’s not an answer. You like Inez, don’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Delphine Musson had seen something in me I didn’t care to admit. Maybe even to myself. The truth was that I’d had a crush on Inez for years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I like them both,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Delphine’s smile of understanding left me uneasy, and I fidgeted with a sugar packet to divert the subject.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">A circular veranda facing the lake occupies two sides of Dagobert’s. When it’s not raining, patrons sit outside, basking in warm weather and the slow anesthesia induced by Inez’s famous margaritas. Now the veranda lay deserted, awash in rain and choppy water. Patrons crowded inside, in the bar and main dining area, raising the noise level to Mardi Gras proportions. Because of the clamor, I failed to hear Bervard Dagobert walk up behind me. I didn’t know he was there until he put his big hand on my shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Wyatt, my man. How you are?” he said, drawling Cajun style.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Although about the same height as I am Berv Dagobert exceeded my age and weight by five years and fifty pounds. Over the years, he had succumbed to a steady diet of his own fried food. Now his physique had sunken to his gut, his puffy cheeks out of place with dark, unruly hair. It didn’t seem to matter. What I could only describe as admiration filled Delphine’s Musson’s eyes, and Bervard seemed to relish her attention. It made me wonder what she saw in a man almost old enough to be her father. When Inez returned with our drinks, her own eyes warned me I wasn’t the only one who noticed the focus of Delphine’s adoration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Keep ’em coming, Inez,” Berv said. “These two’s money can’t buy nothing here tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Releasing my shoulder, he said, “When you get a minute, Cowboy, come up and see me in my office.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Talk of Bervard Dagobert dominated the conversation as Delphine and I finished our drinks. Nothing much changed during dinner in the main dining room. We had finished our catfish and were sipping coffee when Bervard tapped my shoulder again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“How it was, people?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “The best, as always,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You ready to come back to the office?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Folding my napkin, I started up from the chair. So did Delphine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Not you, little lady,” Berv said. “You got some special lemon meringue pie coming. I got to talk to Wyatt alone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Delphine’s smile disappeared, and her shoulders stiffened. A large window facing Pontchartrain backed our table, the sky black, the storm stalled directly overhead. Fingers of lightning parted the darkness for a moment, registering anger in Delphine’s eyes as Berv and I left the table. I noticed, but apparently not Bervard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Knotty pine paneling covered the walls of Berv’s office, a leather couch marking it as a man’s room. Next door was Inez’s adjoining office, tiny by comparison, though where all the real managerial work took place. Inez attended to most of the details of running the restaurant. Unlike the gun cabinets and hunting trophies in Berv’s office, file cabinets and old ledgers filled Inez’s eight-by-ten. An open passage provided ready access to Berv’s office.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv told me to make myself comfortable, handing me a cup of coffee from a pot on the shelf. Instead of coffee, he poured a straight shot of whiskey for himself from a decanter he kept in his private wet bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“It’s Perley,” he said, not waiting for me to ask. “He tried to burn the place down.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You’re joking.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Ain’t no joke,” Berv said, his West End accent growing thicker. “Inez’s office caught fire.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“What started it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Perley did.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I want to know how not who.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“It was Inez’s space heater. A frayed wire on one of them little electric heaters women like to use to keep their legs warm sparked some papers in Inez’s trash can.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You think Perley frayed the wire and set the fire?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “That’s right. Perley was here all day, working on the books.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Sounds like an accident to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“That’s what Perley claims. Says he was downstairs when it started. What’d you think he’d say?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“What did the insurance investigators report?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Couldn’t prove nothing and paid off on our claim.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Then what’s the problem? What reason would Perley have to burn Dagobert’s?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv didn’t answer. After downing his whiskey in a single swallow, he returned to the bar and poured himself another drink. Outside, the storm was ebbing even though raindrops continued drumming the slate roof. Without asking, I helped myself to another cup of chicory-flavored coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “There’s more to this, isn’t there?” I said. “Inez says you two are feuding.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv’s big head slumped his chin dipping in an almost imperceptible nod.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “It’s Dagobert’s. Perley calls it old-fashioned, out of style. Me, I just don’t see it. Papa made this place famous frying oysters and shrimp the old way, not blackening them in some pan like we burned it accidentally and served it to the customer any-ol-who.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Can’t you compromise?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv stared at me as if I were suddenly casting dispersions on the Virgin Mary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Papa left me in charge,” he said, stabbing his breastbone with his finger. “Just cause Perley studied under some fancy French chef downtown don’t mean he knows how to cook any better than me. Till I die, we do it my way at Dagobert’s.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“So that’s all this feud is about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Hell no, that ain’t all. Wait’ll you hear what else he done.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv didn’t have time to tell me as the baritone voice of his little brother Perley caught us both off guard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Still got a shell caught in your craw, big brother?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Neither of us had heard Perley Dagobert enter the room. When he spoke, Berv’s jaw dropped, along with his drink. Glass shattered against hardwood, ricocheting off the walls. Red in the face, Berv started picking up the pieces.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You get the hell out of here, man,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Keep your shorts on. After I get my stuff, I’m on my way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Then do it and shuffle.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Except for his darker hair and more of it, Perley was a younger version of brother Berv. He also lacked the paunch that circled his big brother’s waist and dropped his belt line six inches below normal. Berv loosened his collar as Perley retrieved a box in the corner. Perley grinned when he saw it was me talking to Berv.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“How’s it going, Cowboy. When you coming to a good restaurant? I’m on Poydras, just down the street from the Quarter.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I heard. Congratulations.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Best mirliton dressing in town. Bring your lady by. Food’s on me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley gave me a brotherly hug, picked up the box and slammed the door behind him without saying goodbye to his brother. Thunder, rocking the windows, shook us back to reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You didn’t cook me a free dinner just so I would listen to you carp about the way Perley cooks. What else did he do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv poured another shot, and then slumped into the couch, sinking down until his head rested on the armrest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Perley took out a policy on the restaurant over a year ago. I just found out about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Perley’s mad about the way you run the restaurant so he took out an insurance policy so he could burn it down and collect the money? Pardon my skepticism.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I ain’t paying you to think. I want you to find out the truth.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I’d known Berv all my life. His insinuation that he thought of me as little more than a hired gun stung. I poured myself another cup of java, swallowing indignation along with the strong coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I’ve known Perley long as I’ve known you. I wouldn’t do anything to dampen that trust.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Now get your dauber outa the dirt,” Berv said, feeling the air grow cool. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that. I want you to nose around some. Ain’t nobody better at that than you, and it won’t hurt nothing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I didn’t have time to answer. A fire alarm blaring above the storm halted our conversation, preventing me from punching Bervard Dagobert in the nose. Berv’s face went white, and even with his fifty extra pounds, he managed to beat me out the door and down the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Thick smoke billowed from the kitchen, frightening diners jamming through the doors. Most had already huddled outside in the pouring rain. Berv didn’t join them. Instead, he grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall in the hallway and used it to spray a skillet ignited with hot grease. When trucks from the nearby fire station finally arrived, nothing remained of the fire except soot and smoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I stuck around long after the fire trucks and the other diners had all gone home. So did Delphine Musson. The fire had a strange effect on her, and she sat on Berv’s big couch, sobbing uncontrollably and hugging her knees. Berv had worked himself into a worried frenzy, pacing around his office like a tiger over at Audubon Park Zoo. Inez and I stood against the wall, propping it up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I can’t believe Perley would do this to me, on Friday, my biggest night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Perley didn’t do anything. It was a grease fire. It’s happened here a dozen times,” Inez said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">She was right. Years of accumulated grease had saturated walls, wood floors, and ceiling. By its very nature, Dagobert’s was a candle awaiting a flame.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “May-be,” Berv said, drawing out the word. “But the fry cook said Perley dropped by the kitchen right before the fire started.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Inez poured herself and Berv shots from the bar. “He just wanted to say hello.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“May-be, but it scared this poor little girl almost to death,” Berv said, taking the drink from Inez. He downed it and placed a comforting hand on Delphine’s shoulder. “I’m driving her home now. Too wet for her to take the bus.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv helped Delphine off the couch and hustled her toward the door, pointing his finger at me before leaving.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Check Perley out for me. Find out what he’s got on his mind.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv left Inez and me alone in his office, forgetting that I might also get soaked walking to the bus. He apparently had other things on his mind, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that Inez knew it too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You all right, Inez?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Passable,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Remembering she was drinking alone, she returned to the wet bar and fixed me one of her famous margaritas, sans tequila, from a blender on the cabinet. Then she slumped on the couch and closed her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You don’t think Perley set fire to Dagobert’s?” she asked after a moment of silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I’m sure he didn’t. What’s with Berv and this Musson woman?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">My question brought tears to Inez’s eyes. She finished her drink in a single slug, burying her face in the crook of her arm. I took her empty glass and refilled it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Berv and Delphine are having an affair,” she said, sipping the drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “He’s almost old enough to be her father. Maybe he’s just treating her like the daughter he never had.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “That’s exactly what I told myself, until I saw them with my own eyes, right here in this office.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Doing what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Making love,” she said, her terse reply striking me like a sharp kick in the groin. “After a visit to my mother’s in Marrero, I realized I’d locked myself out of the house. Dagobert’s had closed for the night, and Berv wasn’t home yet. I drove over to get a key from him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When Inez paused, I topped up her drink and said, “Go on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I found the front door locked and couldn’t get anyone’s attention by banging on it. That is when I saw Berv’s light on upstairs. I climbed the fire escape to tap on his window. When I peeked in, I saw them. They were making love, right here on the couch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You caught them in the act? What did Berv say?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I haven’t confronted him with it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Cause he’ll leave me if I do,” she said, tears returning in a continuous stream down her cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I put my arms around her. “You’re twice the woman she is. Berv would never leave you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Yes he would,” she said, dampening my shoulder with tears. “She’s young and pretty. Everything I’m not. Wyatt, I’m so afraid.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When Inez finally managed to collect her emotions, she drove me to my apartment on Chartres Street over Bertram Picou’s bar. The rain had moved north, leaving only intermittent flashes of lightning in the sky and glistening puddles on the streets. After the storm had passed, the Quarter had come alive with tourists. Now the puddles looked like liquid mirrors, reflecting blue and red color from flashing neon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Next day, I had lunch at Perley’s place on Poydras. Clouds had moved north overnight, along with the storm, leaving behind a teal blue sky and a breeze so gentle it barely rocked the Boston ferns draping second-story balconies in the French Quarter. The air was electric, energizing my steps as I hiked to Poydras.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley’s, named simply that, was the antithesis of Dagobert’s. Instead of a stately, stand-alone two-story building, the bistro was little more than a hole in the wall in a working neighborhood several blocks from the French Quarter. It didn’t matter because it was rocking when I arrived. Like Dagobert’s, it had a long line of hungry people waiting outside to get in and eat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley had grown up in a family of restaurateurs and understood that there was more to owning a restaurant than just the food. He was outside on the sidewalk, smiling and pumping customer’s hands when I walked up. When he spotted me, he gave me no chance to go to the back of the line.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Cowboy, you ain’t got to stand out here. You family. You know that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley grabbed my elbow and led me past the line of tourists, into his restaurant. When he opened the door, we were suddenly in bayou country, Cajun music barely overcoming the clatter and chatter of thirty happy diners. The piquant aroma of gumbo and etouffee wafting from the kitchen instantly stoked my appetite.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I guess you know why I’m here?” I said as Perley seated me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Yeah, I know. Bervard tinks I tried to burn down Dagobert’s,” he said, his Cajun drawl whetted for the tourists. “Hell, you know that ain’t like me to do nothing like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley’s reply reinforced what I’d already thought. “Then it was just an accident? Like the insurance investigators said?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley took a step away from the table, playing with his dark mustache before contorting his face into a discernible French grimace. “I didn’t say that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Thinking I’d missed part of his statement amid the noisy restaurant din, I leaned closer. “What?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Someone started that fire, all right, but it wasn’t me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You’re saying it wasn’t an accident?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Tell you about it when I come back,” he said. “I got to get a soufflé out of the oven before it burns.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley left me to ponder his words, not returning for ten minutes. When he did, it was with a pitcher of lemonade and a cup of his soon-to-be-famous gumbo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Be right back,” he said as I laced the gumbo with pepper sauce aptly named Cajun Fire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley returned with seafood-stuffed bell pepper and mirliton dressing. Pulling up a chair, he turned it backward, straddled it and rested his elbows against its twisted cane back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I didn’t set that fire at Dagobert’s. Delphine, Bervard’s little squeeze did.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You know about Delphine?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Hell, I ain’t blind. Everyone at Dagobert’s knows she has Bervard in her sights.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Then why would she try to burn Dagobert’s?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Cause she’s about half nuts and got a temper like a banty rooster.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“That’s no reason to set fire to the place. Where are you getting all this information from?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“The kitchen. Delphine’s hung around the place almost a year. Sammy LeCroix, the fry cook, says she and Bervard argue like an old married couple. When Delphine don’t get her way, she punishes poor Bervard.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Why would he put up with that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Cause she’s young and kind of pretty, and most of the time she treats him like the King of Spain himself.” When Perley grinned, his upper lip and big teeth flashed from beneath his mustache. “And hell, maybe he likes being whupped.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Ignoring his levity, I said, “What about the insurance policy you took out on the place?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I could tell by the look Perley gave me that my question had caught him by surprise. Twirling the chair around, he leaned back against the wall, letting me drift through a moment of silence as background music segued painlessly from Clifton Chenier to Louis Armstrong. Finally, he shook off his frown and began to explain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Wyatt, you know how Mama and Daddy was. Both of them drank like speckled trouts swimming upstream.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I nodded and offered no opinion one way or the other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Hell,” Perley said. “The only thing Daddy did at Dagobert’s was to pinch the waitresses’ tushes. He couldn’t even cook. Mama had to keep the books and pay the bills. Only productive thing the old man ever did was hire Sammy LeCroix to cook for him.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Talk of two people, once very close to me, flooded my brain with old memories, some not so pleasant. Massaging my temples, I resisted the message in Perley’s story. Perley sensed my discomfort and topped up my glass from the pitcher of lemonade.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You all right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Nodding, I took a long sip from the sweating glass. Sirens blared outside as a fire truck raced up St. Charles Avenue. When the front door opened briefly, I became suddenly aware of the tourists, still waiting in line. Perley continued his story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Mama always thought she’d die before Daddy because of her weight problem and bad heart. She loved Bervard but didn’t trust him with money or responsibility no more than she did Daddy. That’s why she give me the money she’d saved for an emergency.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Maybe you’d better explain,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Over the years, Mama managed to put back about fifty thousand dollars. After that last heart attack, she give it to me to take care of the family in case anything happened to her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “But she got better.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley grinned again. “Hell, I’m surprised that tough ol’ bird ain’t still alive. She lost weight and give up smoking. The boozing finally got her, though not until ten years after it got Daddy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“And what did you do with the money?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Had it in a safety deposit box uptown and last year I finally got around to doing what Mama wanted. The lawyer had me take out an insurance policy till he got the family trust in place.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Then you have no designs on Dagobert’s?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley scoffed at my question, folded his arms tightly and leaned forward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Hell, I’ve saved my own money for years. Dagobert’s is Dagobert’s. I’d never change anything about it. I just always planned to open my own restaurant. One I could run the way I want and cook what I like to cook.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I took the streetcar back to Canal, the rattling antique creaking and rocking from side to side like a drunken old man. Happy tourists, enjoying the cool weather and air cleansed by last night’s rain, were streaming in and out of the Quarter. When we reached our stop, I hurried across the widest street in the world and then bee-lined for Picou’s bar on Rue Chartres. There I found Bertram alone behind the big oak counter, polishing a drinking glass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“What’s up, Cowboy?” he said. “Stomach bothering you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“My stomach’s fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Then why are your eyes bugging out like you got a caterpillar on your tongue?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Bertram was full of it, as all his close friends knew, and he loved verbal sparring bouts. A peculiarly Gallic trait, I had noticed. He deemed himself a winner whenever he got a rise from someone. I had other things on my mind and refused to take the bait.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Do you have any lemonade in this place?” I said, pulling up a stool at the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You break up with that little gal on Esplanade?” he said, not answering my question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“About two years ago.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Well, I just thought with you making them pitiful calf eyes and all . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">It was my turn not to answer his question. I turned instead on the stool and stared around the large empty room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“What you looking at?” Bertram finally asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “At all the people in here,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Ain’t no people in here but us.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When I grinned, Bertram knew I had him. “Exactamento, Chief Run-at-the-Mouth,” I said. “Maybe Pierre Bartender ran them off with his loud trap.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Bertram chalked up an imaginary point for me in the air and then poured a glass of lemonade from the jug he kept under the counter. Following a cool sip, I told him about the feuding Dagobert brothers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">After reflecting on my story, he said, “Sounds like Miss Delphine is the spark plug firing the whole deal. Why don’t you call Carla and see what she knows about her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Carla Manetti was Chief Librarian at </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">UNO</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">. Her name had crossed my mind more than once yet hadn’t surfaced consciously until Bertram mentioned her name. Our year-long relationship had sputtered and finally stalled, though not because we didn’t like each other. Circumstances simply came between us. Now, feeling like an insurance salesman trying to pass off an unneeded policy on a hapless relative, I took a city bus to </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">UNO</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> to look up Carla Manetti and find out what she could tell me about Delphine Musson.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The beautiful weather was holding as I stepped off the bus and strolled up the path to the </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">UNO</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> campus. A salty breeze blew off Lake Pontchartrain. A flock of gulls, their white feathers blending seamlessly with the faded sky, winged overhead. Screeching tires and the crash of a distant auto accident returned me to reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">UNO</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">, once a backwater branch of </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">LSU</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">, was now a modern university rivaling its parent institution. Math and physics graduates populated </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">NASA’s</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> facility across the river in Slidell, and others filled important jobs around the nation. The university even has a good basketball team. I always tried to catch several games every season in the new sports facility near the Lake. Despite my trips to campus, I hadn’t visited the library in over a year. I spotted Carla before she saw me. She hadn’t cut her thick black hair, and it still draped her shoulders. As the memory of her ebony eyes raced through my brain, she turned and caught me staring. Her large eyes flashed momentary anger, a cool smile quickly replacing the frown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “See something you like, Cowboy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I did, and for a moment, I wondered why I had quit calling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“How are you, Carla?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Carla stood on her tiptoes and lightly kissed my lips. “Fine, Wyatt. And you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Great. Got a minute?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Despite the kiss, I noted a distinct chill as Carla motioned me to follow her. She led me down a narrow aisle, past students with noses buried in thick academic volumes, to her office in the back. It was an open room with a half wall affording some privacy while allowing her a clear view of the library.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You could have called,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Yes, I could have called. Instead of replying with a lame excuse, I stared at the screen-saver on Carla’s computer that had transposed the screen into an aquarium filled with tropical fish. She smiled and shook her head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You were never much of a liar, Wyatt Thomas.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Then ask me no questions, Carla Manetti.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">We both had a laugh as Carla poured us Cajun coffee from a pot in the corner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I don’t believe you’re here to talk about old times,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I’m not. I have some questions about one of your employees. Delphine Musson.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “A little young for you, isn’t she?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I’m looking for info, not a date,” I said, regretting my words the moment they flew out of my mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Carla fumbled with her computer keyboard, replacing the tropical fish screen-saver with images of a driving snowstorm. The chill had returned to the office, the snowstorm somehow fitting the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“What do you want to know about Delphine?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Just checking her out,” I said, after explaining Berv Dagobert’s involvement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">As Carla punched up the library’s personnel records on the computer, a data screen replaced driving snowflakes. Walking around her desk, I leaned over her shoulder for a closer look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“No information except her name and age,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Is that normal?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“There’s a hold on her bio. It’s on the computer somewhere, but controlled by a password.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Government security; witness protection program; crimes committed as a minor. Who knows what all?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Any way to circumvent the password?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Carla winked. “There’s always a way, though it’ll take a while.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When Carla’s flashing hands returned the storm to the screen, I decided it was time to go. “Call me when you find out something?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Carla neither answered, nor bothered walking me to the door though she couldn’t resist a biting remark before letting me leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I’ll call you, Wyatt. Just keep waiting by the phone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">After starting to exit without responding, I stopped instead before clearing the door. “Say, Carla, how’s your mother’s lasagna?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Still fabulous. Is that the only reason you went out with me for a year?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Well,” I said, inching out the door with a grin on my face. “You can’t find lasagna like that in a restaurant.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Now I had some questions for Bervard, and it was not far from </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">UNO</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> to Dagobert’s. I took the bus down Lakeshore Drive, ignoring the other passengers as I stared out the window at Pontchartrain’s emerald surface. As colorful sails billowed on the horizon, I pondered the massive lake’s connection to the feuding Dagobert brothers. I also thought about Delphine Musson and just a little about Carla Manetti.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Early French visitors came to Louisiana in search of gold and jewels. Instead of treasure, they found swampy forests populated by reptiles and insects and plagued by endless rain and devastating storms blowing in from the Gulf. When they gave up on finding gold and decided instead to exploit the region’s fur and timber, they began a search that took them to a spot south of a giant, inland sea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Pontchartrain stretches sixty miles along a subsurface corridor known as the Baton Rouge Fault Zone. South of the lake, the Mississippi River forms an abrupt bend—the crescent of the present-day Crescent City. The lake and river cordon a spit of high ground founding fathers found attractive. Pontchartrain provided access to the Gulf, circumventing an arduous, overland trek. The spot was easily defendable, and its high ground provided some protection from prevailing storms and rampant flooding. However, there were problems.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Killer hurricanes decimated the settlement every year for the first three years. Standing water bred mosquitoes that carried yellow fever, and floods and plague dominated the city for decades. Because of the high water table, citizens couldn’t even bury their dead in a grave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">In New Orleans, water shapes and controls destinies. It always has and always will. I wondered how much it had affected the Dagobert brothers. The thought occupied me until I stepped off the bus at the marina. I found Berv in the kitchen. He was overseeing preparations for lunch. Pulling him away from his duties, I led him to his office as the aroma of fresh golden batter filled the air. It stayed with us as we climbed the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “What’s up, Cowboy? Got something for me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Not yet. We need to talk.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The early hour didn’t stop Berv from pouring a shot of straight whiskey. Bright November sunlight flooded the upstairs window, highlighting a web of fine red veins marking his nose and chin. I wasn’t there to discuss his addiction to alcohol and refrained from commenting on it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “So talk,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “It’s Inez. I’m worried about her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Worried about Inez? Why she ain’t been sick a day in her life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You’re wrong. Inez is sick now. Heartsick “<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“What in the hell you talking about?” Berv asked, draining the shot and pouring another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“She thinks you’re about to leave her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Momentary anger flashed in Berv’s dark eyes. “Has she been telling you things?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“She hasn’t told me anything that a blind man couldn’t already see. She thinks you’re having an affair with Delphine Musson. So does Perley and everyone else.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv slammed the shot glass against the table, spilling whiskey all over a magazine. He didn’t bother wiping it up. Seeing I had him on the ropes, I charged in with a straight right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Inez loves you, Berv. You’re never going to find another woman like her. Don’t screw it up, or I swear I’ll kick your big butt from here to Canal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I waited for Berv to punch me in the nose. The blow never came. Instead, he bowed his big head. Giant tears rolled from his eyes, and he blubbered like a baby. Then he put his hairy arms around my neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I love her too, Wyatt. Swear I do. I’d never do nothing to hurt her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“You already have, Berv, and now you’ve got to fix the hurt. Do the dirty deed and tell Delphine to hit the road, and I mean the sooner, the better.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I left Berv whimpering on the couch and made my way through the luncheon crowd lining the entryway. Dark clouds were rolling in off the Gulf, a storm approaching as I awaited the bus. A flock of gulls circled overhead, searching for a place to ride out the storm. I decided to follow their wise example.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Bertram’s establishment grew raucous every night about nine. By midnight, it usually rocked to the beat of a full-blown party. Tonight was no exception. Laissez les bons temps rouler, said the sign behind the bar. Let the good times roll. That’s what Bertram’s customers were doing when I came down from my upstairs apartment. When Bertram spotted me through the crowd, he signaled me to join him behind the counter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Phone call, Cowboy,” he said, handing the receiver to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">It was Carla Manetti on the line.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Wyatt. Got a minute?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “What’s up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I hacked into the university’s personnel record and got something on Delphine Musson.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Don’t keep me in suspense.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I’m still at the library and can’t tell you over the phone. Can you come by?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I glanced at the old Falstaff clock hanging on the wall behind the bar. “Are you still open?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“We’ll close before you get here but I’ll let you in the back door.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I’m on my way.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Thunder rumbled, and lightning grazed the disappearing New Orleans skyline as I headed down Elysian Fields toward </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">UNO</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">. It was late, light rain already falling when I stepped off the bus and jogged toward the library. In my rush, I’d forgotten my umbrella. I was soaked before I reached the back door of the library. Carla opened it on my second knock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “What took you so long?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I missed the first bus and had to wait ten minutes for the next one to come along.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “When are you going to grow up and buy a car?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I like public transportation.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Carla shook her head in disgust as she led me down a dimly lighted hallway. Only a small desk lamp illuminated her office, and she refrained from turning on more. Darkness carried an unexpected gift: intimacy brought about by collusion in an illicit act. Now the snowstorm screen-saver had deserted Carla’s computer screen, along with the chill in the air prevalent during my last visit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The aquarium screen-saver blinked once and disappeared when she attacked the keyboard with lightning fingers. Quicker still, Delphine Musson’s personnel records appeared in its place. Real thunder shook the roof, accompanied by rain pounding the windows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “She was in Mandeville before coming to work here,” Carla said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Mandeville is one of Louisiana’s state-run mental health facilities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “What was she there for?” I asked, crowding behind Carla and peering over her shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Delphine killed her father,” Carla said, backing away from the monitor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">It took a moment for the impact of Carla’s pronouncement to register with my brain. When it did, I said, “Murder?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “When Delphine’s mother abandoned the family, her father began using her as his little concubine. He was guilty of incest and child abuse. What a creep.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I reflected on my visit with Delphine during dinner at Dagobert’s. Now I understood the shy young woman’s reticence and her unusual interest in an older man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Does it say why she killed him, or how?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“He must have brought home another woman.” A gasp escaped Carla’s lips. “She locked them in the bedroom of their trailer, drenched the kitchen floor with gasoline and used it to start a fire.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Can you print the report?” Carla nodded, punching the print command until the laser printer on her desk began to hum. I grabbed her phone, not waiting for a hard copy. Berv Dagobert answered on the first ring.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Berv, I have something on your fire in the restaurant. I’m coming over.” After a lengthy silence, I said, “What is it? Talk to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Between sobs, Bervard explained. “I realized what an ass I been after our talk the other day. This morning, I worked up my guts to tell Delphine it was over between us, and that I still love Inez.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “You told her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Yeah, and I never seen her so cool. At first, it relieved me. Then I got to thinking it was all too easy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “What about Inez?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “When I explained why I needed to see Delphine one last time, her face went kind of white. She rushed out of the house without giving me a chance to explain why I had to see Delphine. She was still gone when I got back.” An audible click interrupted our conversation. “Wait just a minute. Maybe it’s Inez.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I waited thirty seconds for Bervard to come back on the line. When he did, his voice shook with emotion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Oh my God, Wyatt! Dagobert’s is on fire! “<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv dropped the phone, and I had to get another line to dial </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">9-1-1</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">. Carla’s mouth dropped open, her face visibly white even in the dimly lighted office.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“No time to explain,” I said. “Give me your car keys.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Not on your life, Cowboy. I’m going with you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Then let’s get the hell out of here,” I said, pulling her toward the door. “Delphine’s repeating the performance that earned a trip for her to Mandeville in the first place.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif"; mso-no-proof: yes;">The rain</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> had passed when we left the library. Didn’t matter much because a new storm was on its way, still centered somewhere south of the city as we sprinted to Carla’s ancient Plymouth Duster. Dark clouds already hung overhead when we reached Dagobert’s, though not from rain. The restaurant was on fire, orange flame licking through the windows. Worse yet, we could see someone flailing around inside the restaurant. It looked like Berv.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv’s car sat askance in the parking lot as if in a panic he’d slammed on his brakes and slid sideways on broken shells. Carla pulled the same maneuver, throwing me out the door. After skidding across five feet of oyster shells on my face and elbows, I regained my footing and sprinted toward the front door. Finding it locked, I kicked out a window and dived into the building.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Flame licked the walls outside the kitchen door and a cloud of black smoke, laden with years of accumulated grease, billowed forth like gases from an erupting volcano. I found Berv on the floor, his eyes closed. I dragged him through the dining room, lifting him around the waist and shoving him through the window. Then I turned toward heat licking the back of my neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Dagobert’s kitchen still continued to contain most of the fire. I fought through smoke and heat, locating the door and slamming it shut, hoping to slow the flames until fire trucks arrived. It was only a hope. A far-fetched one, I mused as I plunged headlong through the window.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Carla had seen Berv’s large torso tumble out the window. She’d managed to drag him away from the building, out to the safety of the parking lot. There she used her sweater, drenched in a nearby puddle, to revive him. With the same sweater, she helped me clear smoke from my lungs and wash burning ashes from my eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “How is he?” I said when I finally quit coughing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Lucky to be alive.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv rested on the bed of broken oyster shells. When I raised his head, his eyes opened, flickering with a spark of recognition. He tried to speak but couldn’t. Smoke, remaining in his lungs, sent him into his own coughing jag.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Lie still. There’s an ambulance on its way,” Carla said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv was having none of it. Shaking his head, he pointed a quivering finger at the upstairs window of the restaurant. The vision I saw struck me like a club over the head: the dark silhouette of a woman’s figure in the window.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“There’s someone up there,” Carla said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Delphine,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv found the strength to pull me up, almost yanking my arm from its socket. His face was red and puffy, his eyes as deranged as a wild animal caught in a trap. Despite his struggle to speak, he managed only five words. They spewed from his mouth in a hoarse whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “It ain’t Delphine, its Inez.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Wailing sirens overshadowed distant thunder, heralding the approach of fire trucks and a rescue team. Inez couldn’t wait that long. I raced toward the flaming building, this time managing to kick open the front door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Don’t do it, Wyatt,” Carla screamed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I hesitated but didn’t stop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The fire had spread rapidly inside the building. Now it felt like the inside of an oven, my bare skin as sensitive as that of a freshly plucked turkey. Shielding my eyes, I forged ahead through smoke, flame and flying embers, groping for the stairs leading to Bervard’s office, nailing into the banister and stumbling over it. With no time to worry about my throbbing shin, I hurried up the steps taking three at a time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The billowing smoke sucked oxygen from my lungs. Only a trapped layer of fresh air, halfway up the stairs, kept me from suffocating. Between jags of coughing, I breathed deeply and wiped acid sweat from my eyes with a scorched sleeve, trying to ignore my blistered hands. What I found at the top of the stairs, almost made me turn around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">A beam, collapsed from the smoldering ceiling, blocked the door to Berv’s office. It burst into flames before my eyes, for a moment piercing the wall of smoke. Ripping a banister rod from the stairway, I used it to pry away the beam, then kicked open the door. Smoke rushed from the room, and I got a clear look at what was to be my biggest shock of the night. Inez was lying on the floor, Delphine Musson kneeling over her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Part of the roof came crashing down on my head, leaving me dazed, and hovering between reality and illusion, consciousness and coma. Spirits appeared and disappeared through the haze, and somewhere along the way, I even stopped coughing. Although it seemed more dream than reality, some voice in the deepest recess of my brain told me that someone had taken hold of my ankles and was pulling me down the stairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I awoke to a white-smocked doctor standing over me, listening to my heart through a stethoscope. A frown shrouded his face. An oxygen mask covered my own.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Where am I?” I said in a mumble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Charity Hospital. I’m Doctor Wenske,” the young, very serious doctor said. “How you feeling?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Like I reached for a bale and pulled the whole gin down on my head.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The good doctor attempted a constipated grin that failed miserably. “You hit your head in the fire. We’re keeping you overnight. You’re fine except for a few scrapes and burns.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Inez and Bervard, holding hands like high school sweethearts, entered the antiseptic room as Doctor Wenske exited. Little brother Perley was with them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“What happened?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Perley dragged you out of Dagobert’s.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Perley?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “I had a premonition something was wrong at Dagobert’s,” Perley said. “I wasn’t five minutes behind you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Good thing for you, Cowboy, “Berv said, chuckling.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “And a good thing for Inez,” I said. “He saved her from Delphine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Perley, Berv, and Inez exchanged knowing glances.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Delphine saved my life,” Inez said. “Not Perley. The fire trapped us in Berv’s office. We couldn’t get through the bars on the window. She kept us alive with damp towels till you kicked open the door. She pulled me to safety and led Perley back through the smoke to help rescue you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Then who set the fire? Was it you?” I said, looking at Inez.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Inez didn’t set no fire,” Berv said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Inez released Berv’s hand, massaging her temples until color returned to her cheeks. “I wanted to talk to Delphine. Alone. I called her apartment, asking her to meet me at Dagobert’s. Thunder was shaking the walls when I arrived. There was a bright flash as lightning shot down the kitchen flue, knocking me against the wall. It was a direct lightning hit, and it lit up those grease-soaked walls like a Roman candle. I panicked, running upstairs to save our books and records.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Delphine saw smoke when she got off the bus. She called me from the marina,” Berv said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Delphine knew I was in the building and rushed upstairs to get me out, but she couldn’t drag me away from the books and records. That’s when the door slammed shut, trapping us in Berv’s office.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“How did Delphine get in the front door?” I asked. “I couldn’t open it when I arrived.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Inez left the door cracked. I must have slammed it shut, locking it when I got there,” Berv said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Is Delphine okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“None the worse for wear,” Berv said. “Not even Dagobert’s. Rain put out most of the fire before the fire trucks got there. You the only one that got hurt.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Berv and Perley were all smiles, and Berv had his big arm around his little brother’s shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Looks like you two are speaking again,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Perley explained to me about Mama’s trust.” Inez shook her head and elbowed Perley when Berv added, “I knew all the time Perley had a good explanation for what he did. I’ve asked him to come back to Dagobert’s.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"> “Fat chance of that,” Inez said. “Besides, unless Perley marries pretty soon and has some kids, there’s no need for a Dagobert family trust. Maybe we’ll have to leave it to Wyatt. And Carla,” she added.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">When Carla poked her head through the door, Inez said, “Let’s get out of here. Wyatt needs his rest, and I’m sure he wants to visit with Carla without us hanging on his every word.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Inez kissed me as Berv and Perley pumped my hands before leaving Carla and me alone. Carla was the first to speak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Hey, Cowboy, how’s it hanging?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Half mast, but still flapping.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“I’m glad,” she said, squeezing my hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“And I’m glad Delphine didn’t start the fire. She’s suffered enough already.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Carla squeezed my hand tighter. “That was a brave thing you did tonight. I told Mama what happened and I think it might have changed her opinion of you. She even asked me to invite you over for lasagna. Interested?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">“Burning buildings couldn’t keep me away,” I quickly said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The night nurse shooed Carla out the door, leaving me alone with a drip tube in my arm and questions about Mrs. Manetti’s former opinion of me rattling inside my brain. Thunder shook me back to reality. Like the other storms this month, turbulence remained stalled over the city. Now, rain thumped against my window, pouring in rivulets down the pane. It reminded me of Lake Pontchartrain, the Mississippi River, and the endless swamps and bayous surrounding the city. Some people might say they were only water. I say that water is the single most important thing that sets New Orleans apart from all the other cities on earth. Water that surrounds us in all directions, its power and danger shaping both our past and present.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I didn’t have long to think about it. Beset by both exhaustion and the mind-numbing anesthetic a nurse had given me, I closed my eyes and faded away into a watercolor dream.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-88360752375339704992018-03-25T11:52:00.001-05:002018-03-25T11:52:56.246-05:00Rusty's Reading : Spotlight: River Road by Eric Wilder<a href="http://rustysreading.blogspot.com/2016/06/spotlight-river-road-by-eric-wilder.html?spref=bl">Rusty's Reading : Spotlight: River Road by Eric Wilder</a>: Spotlight: River Road by Eric Wilder Genre: Cajun Mystery Thriller Synopsis: River Road is Book 5 in Eric Wilder’s popular F...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-88806609212005630062018-03-20T19:23:00.001-05:002018-10-12T18:17:26.068-05:00Spring Equinox Time Walk<div align="center" style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px;">Today is the first day of spring - the vernal equinox. Seasonal changes were sacred to the ancients and celebrated as holy days. In my book <b><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M4Q7Z14">Blink of an Eye</a></i></b> P.I. Buck McDivit travels back 1000 years in time to Spiro, the once great center of the Mississippian people to attend the Summer Solstice with more than 20,000 Native Americans. If you love history, adventure, and mystery, then take a magic carpet ride back a thousand years and prepare to see the New World as it was long before the white man ever arrived.</span></div>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 18pt; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></b> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "30" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18pt; margin: 0px;">Chapter 12</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Buck fumbled in the dark with the keys when he reached the front gate of Thorn’s property. She was asleep in the passenger seat and hadn’t moved since they’d left the Roadhouse. Pard and Maggie were raising a ruckus in the backyard as he unlocked the front door and turned on the porch light.</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;"> Thorn was dead weight. He had to wrestle her onto the bed. Maggie and Pard watched, wagging their tails, as he pulled off her boots. Knowing how bad it felt to wake up with a hangover, he thought about removing her jeans and blouse. Instead, he covered her with a quilt, deciding he didn’t know her well enough. Turning out the lights, he went into the kitchen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Maggie and Pard demanded attention. After popping the top on a cold beer he found in the refrigerator, he obliged them. They gobbled up a couple of dog treats, then returned to Maggie’s extra large doggie bed by the stove.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Turning off the lights, he went into Thorn’s cozy den. Pulling off his boots, he plopped on the old couch that sat in front of her pot-bellied stove.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Good for you, Pard,” he said, glancing at the doggie bed. “At least one of us has a girlfriend to keep them warm tonight.”</span></div>
<div align="center" style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;"><v:shape alt="Decorative_Line_1" id="_x0000_i1027" style="flip: y; height: 12pt; visibility: visible; width: 121.5pt;" type="#_x0000_t75"> <v:imagedata o:title="Decorative_Line_1" src="file:///C:\Users\admin\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image002.jpg"> </v:imagedata></v:shape></span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;"></span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">A storm came up, with thunder rattling windows as rain drummed a cadence on Thorn’s tin roof. Lost in a dream world, Buck didn’t awaken. At least until a bright light shining in his eyes caused him to open them. When he did, he sat straight up on the couch, not believing what he saw.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Before him stood a beautiful woman, an aura of blue light radiating from her naked body. He first thought it was Thorn. Instead, it was someone he’d never expected to see again. His heart began racing inside his bare chest.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Is it you, Esme, or am I dreaming?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Come to me and see,” she said.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">When he pressed against her and began smothering her with kisses, he knew she was real.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Esme was tall and graceful, her long hair and demanding eyes as dark as the storm raging outside the house. As he pressed against her soft breasts, a familiar rush coursed through his body. Just to make sure it was she, he turned her around. As he remembered, a rattlesnake tattoo highlighted the supple curve of her shoulder.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“It’s been two long years. Not a day has passed that I didn’t think about you,” he said. “Why did you go away?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“I know it hurt you, Buck McDivit. I could not help it because I am from a different place and time.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“What place, and what time?” he said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“You will see. I will take you there. First, you must become as naked as I am.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Buck’s jeans dropped to the floor. “I’m ready,” he said. “Where are we going?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“To a place you’ve never imagined,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Esme held his hand as they passed through the locked door as if it weren’t there. The storm had grown stronger as rain poured down in sheets. Thunder rocked their steps, lightning sizzling across an angry sky.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Sharp stones from the gravel driveway didn’t hurt his feet. Though rain gushed off his head and shoulders, he was oblivious to it. Esme led him down the hill, their feet sinking into the mire as they reached a pond overflowing from the deluge. Lightning laced the darkness above them. He hesitated when she stepped into the roiling water.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Come with me,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">He continued to waver. “It’s dangerous.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Pulling him toward her, she said, “Trust me.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Neck deep in churning water, they embraced as lightning kissed the pond. It set off a kaleidoscope of radiating colors that made his head spin. When he opened his eyes, darkness was gone. So was the storm. Dancing rays of sunshine radiated through the cloudy sky. Birds soared overhead, and only friendly drops of rain rippled the water’s surface.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“We’ve crossed over,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“That was the wildest ride I’ve ever taken. What just happened?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“You did this once before. You just don’t remember.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Did what?” he asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Walked across time,” she said. “Brace yourself for culture shock because you are now in my world.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">They were in the river. Esme took his hand and led him out of the water to a teepee near its bank. The same teepee Esme lived in when he’d met her near the pagan village of Lykaia. When they pushed through the flap, he saw Beauty, Esme’s giant wolf dog. They moved toward one another, meeting in the middle, and were soon rolling on a deerskin rug.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Where the hell have you been?” Buck said, giving her big neck a warm hug.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“She’s missed you, and so have I,” Esme said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed both of you.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Yes I can,” she said. “Let’s get you dressed. I have much to show you.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Soon, Buck looked like a Mississippian warrior, Esme like a medicine woman. Beauty hadn’t left Buck’s side until Esme told her to stay and guard the teepee.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“She doesn’t like crowds,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Buck gave the large beast another hug and then followed Esme out the door. He could hardly believe the sights that began unfolding around them.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Dozens of canoes occupied the riverbank and more floated in the river. When they crested the natural levee, his jaw dropped. Wooden houses with thatched roofs stretched for as far as he could see. Indian women, naked from the waist up, were working small truck gardens. Men, returning from a hunt, carried a deer and a large turtle.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“They are preparing for the festival,” Esme said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Buck was curious. “Festival?” he said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“You’ll see.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">They were both resplendent in colorful paint and feathers. Esme seemed to know everyone and exchanged smiles and greetings as they passed. They soon reached a palisade. Behind the timbered walls, stately mounds, topped by wooden houses, jutted toward the sky. Activity outside the entrance to the palisade was heavy.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“It’s festival day,” she said. “Some of the people have traveled a thousand miles to be here.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Tell me about this festival.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Tomorrow is the first day of summer, the longest day of the year. For my people, it is one of our holiest days. Today is the eve of the summer solstice. Our chief will speak, and there will be a game of chunkey. Following the game, the bonfire is lit, and everyone feasts, chants, and dances until dawn.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Buck had met Esme for the first time during a solstice celebration. He remembered because he’d been the only male present. He and several hundred naked pagan females had danced the night away in a solstice ceremony. When he’d met Esme, she’d been the spiritual leader of the pagan enclave known as Lykaia.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Are we going to dance like we did when we first met?” he asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">She shook her head. “I am the medicine woman. I must feast with our chief, the elders, and the emissaries from many other tribes. I have other plans for you.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“What tribes?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Mississippians from all over, Aztecs and Mayans from Mexico, and Anasazi from Four Corners.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“You must be kidding.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“I assure you I’m not.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">They all wore their festival best. Pearls, shells, and colorful beads adorned the braids in many of the women’s long hair. Most of the men had painted faces and shaved heads with only a top knot. Colors of their costumes moved like a kaleidoscope in slow motion.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">The palisade was on a hill. From their vantage, they could see the bend in the large river. Hundreds of canoes lined the bank, more still arriving. Everyone, it seemed, was smiling.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“How can so many tribes coexist?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Spiro, as you know it, is the religious hub of our universe. There can be no war, strife, or disagreement in this holy place, especially on the eve of the summer solstice. Well, except for chunkey,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">The scene reminded him of the open marketplace in Santa Fe. This was similar but ten times larger. A myriad of color, noise, and excitement, and jewelry wasn’t the only thing for sale.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">The aroma of fresh corn, squash, grapes, and a dozen other vegetables floated in a warm breeze. A big black dog that no one seemed to own sniffed his leg before disappearing into the crowd.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“This place is shoulder to shoulder,” he said. “Reminds me of the crowds at the state fair or an </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9pt; margin: 0px;">OU</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;"> football game.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“There are many thousands here today,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Thorn would be in heaven,” he said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“She descended from Mississippians.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“I can’t imagine anyone loving their cultural history more than her.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“She is a good person. Maybe too good for the likes of you.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“What about for you?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Esme’s smile disappeared. “We were never meant to be.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Star-crossed lovers?” he said, squeezing her hand.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“We must live in the moment. I have you now, at least for a short time, and there are many things I need to tell you.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">They strolled through the open-air market, marveling at the crafts. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, only a flock of gulls circling to land on a pond created by a bend in the river.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“It’s time to enter the palisade,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“I understand every word these people are saying. They can’t be speaking English.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“You left your clothes and many other things in Oklahoma. While you are here, you are one of us.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">The high-timbered palisade surrounding the enclave was more spectacular than Thorn had described. A moat filled with water surrounded the tall timbers. Guards armed with spears left little doubt that no one entered except by invitation. He and Esme were on the list. They followed a circular maze until it opened into the ancient gated city of Spiro. The panorama blew him away.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“I visited the Archaeological Park yesterday. I had no idea it looked as spectacular as this.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“The new world’s version of Camelot,” she said. “The game is starting. Would you like to see?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">In the distance, hundreds of spectators occupied a large arena where two teams were beginning to compete.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“It’s a half-mile away. It’ll be lunch before we get there,” he said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“We don’t have to walk,” she said, snapping her fingers.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Four men appeared with a hand carriage, waiting until Esme and Buck had climbed aboard. Hoisting it to their shoulders, they began trekking toward the chunkey game. The rampant noise grew louder as they approached the arena, covered seating awaiting them. Play stopped as the players, and the crowd acknowledged Esme’s appearance.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“They treat you like a goddess,” Buck said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">She wasn’t smiling when she said, “To my people, I am a goddess.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Forty people occupied covered seating opposite them. A man in bright paint sat in a cane throne decorated with wreaths of flowers and feathers. The throne rose high above everyone else in the box.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“He must be a bigwig,” he said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Walking Wolf is chief of the Mississippians. He’s without a doubt the most powerful person in North America.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Walking Wolf’s throne was quite a distance away for a good look. Still, the regal old man seemed strangely familiar to Buck.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "30" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18pt; margin: 0px;">Chapter 13</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; margin: 0px;"><v:shape id="_x0000_i1026" style="height: 33.75pt; visibility: visible; width: 50.25pt;" type="#_x0000_t75"> <v:imagedata o:title="eagle[1]" src="file:///C:\Users\admin\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.png"> </v:imagedata></v:shape></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Buck had attended many sporting events, both amateur and professional. He’d never seen one quite as loud and raucous as the chunkey match.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Eight contestants and a referee, surrounded by several thousand adoring fans, occupied the football-sized field. Dressed in breechcloths, the competitors had faces painted white with black eyes like raccoons. Both teams wore pillbox hats woven of straw. One of the men stood at least six-six and towered over the others.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“That’s Talako,” Esme said. “He’s the captain of our team. We have never lost a game.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Impressive,” he said. “Who are they playing?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“A team from a large Mississippian settlement called Cahokia. They have also never lost.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“One of their dudes is almost as big as Talako,” Buck said. “How is the game played?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“With short spears and a stone roller chiseled from quartz. Talako and the big man from the other team are the spears. They do all the throwing and most of the scoring. Each team has a disc roller and two team members called fronts that run interference. Only the disk rollers can touch the disk, and only the spears can throw them. The fronts use their spears for tripping and preventing the disk from going through the goal posts. That’s five points. You’ll get the gist once they start playing.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">One of the Cahokians had a six-inch stone disk with a hole in the middle. Taking a stance like a pro bowler, he rolled it toward the opposite goal. The referee waited until the disk had traveled about twenty feet and then waved his hand. Talako and the big man from the Cahokia team launched their spears. When the disk came to a halt, a ref ran onto the field, picked up the closest spear to the disk and held up a finger.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“One point,” Esme said. “The first team to reach twelve points wins.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“What’s the significance of the hole in the disk?” Buck asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“If a spear penetrates the hole, then the game is over. The team that makes the toss is the winner.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Seems unlikely for that to happen.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Almost never,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">When the ref waved his hand again, eight men ran toward the disk. The melee that followed resembled hand-to-hand combat. Both teams pushed and shoved, the fronts doing their best to break their opponent’s legs. A Cahokian retrieved the disk and launched it toward the goal. The scrum continued, both teams fighting for position and scoring a few points. The crowd had grown inflamed.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“There’s massive betting going on in the stands,” she said. “Much property will change hands because of this match.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Most everyone’s rooting for our team,” Buck said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Not all. There’s a large contingent of Cahokians here to watch the game.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Talako’s spear landed within inches of the disk, the crowd standing and yelling. When the ref waved his hand, the two Cahokian fronts took Talako’s legs out from under him. When they did, the big spear kicked him in the side.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Damn! That looked like a foul to me. Those boys are serious. They don’t have a penalty box in this game?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Chunkey emulates combat. Bones are often broken. The crowd expects the team to play through their pain.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Brutal. Sort of like pro football. How long till the ref calls a break?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Esme shook her head. “They’ll battle until they drop, or the game is over. There are no quarters.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“And the reward?” he asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Life, the losers killed and their scalps displayed on the winner’s belts.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“You gotta be kidding me,” he said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“If the visiting team wins, our chief will pardon them because this is a religious holiday. If our team loses, they will lose their heads.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Doesn’t look like they’re in any danger of that. They’re ahead by six points.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“I pray not,” Esme said. “Talako is Walking Wolf’s only grandson, and the greatest warrior our tribe has.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Your chief wouldn’t allow his own flesh and blood to have his head chopped off.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Not only allow it, he would proclaim it so. He would have no choice,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“You seem distressed. You okay?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“These games always frighten me.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“You want to leave?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“I can’t,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Something you aren’t telling me?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Walking Wolf and I are time walkers, inherited only when both parents are also walkers. The only other walker in the tribe is Talako.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Buck stared at her anxious expression, trying to decipher what she had just told him.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“So you and Talako are . . . ?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Betrothed,” she said. “We must marry and have a child.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">She squeezed his hand, her eyes begging for understanding.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“I had hoped we were going to do more than just hold hands tonight.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“I am so sorry. That is not possible,” she said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Do you love him?”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“As much as I love you.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“Then I guess it’s okay,” he said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">When they returned their attention to the game, they saw that the Spiro team had drawn within a point of winning. The Cahokian roller gave the disk a great heave, the crowd waiting until the referee waved his hand. As he did, Talako and the big Cahokian launched their spears. The disk hit a bump and fell on its side as Talako’s spear sailed over it.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">When the Cahokian’s spear began its descent, every spectator in the arena sensed what was about to happen. As the missile landed in the hole in the disk, the crowd grew deathly silent. The chief came down from his cane throne, motioning Talako to approach him. Esme’s face turned bright red as she squeezed Buck’s hand.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“I can’t believe this,” he said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“If he can break Talako’s spear, then it is a sign that the Great Spirit wishes him to die. Walking Wolf will have to take his head.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Buck stood. “I’ll stop it,” he said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Esme pulled him back into his seat. “No. If the spear breaks, then it is ordained.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Talako’s head hung low as he knelt in front of his grandfather and handed him his spear. Removing a serrated stone dagger from his ceremonial belt, Walking Wolfe drove it into the earth. Then he raised the spear over his head and did a slow turn so that everyone in the stands could see.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Esme let go of Buck’s hand, her tears flowing and the veins in her neck bulging. She clenched her hands, almost as if she also had hold of the spear.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Though smaller than his grandson, Walking Wolf looked anything except weak. Buck could see he was preparing to break the spear and had little doubt that he could complete the task. As the rapt crowd watched in silence, his muscles strained, his face turning red. Buck and everyone else expected the spear to snap at any second.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Despite his efforts, the spear never even bowed. Finally, the anger imprinted on his face disappeared, replaced with a smile. He turned again to the crowd.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“This spear is unbreakable. Would anyone care to try?” He walked around the arena, offering it to anybody that might accept it. No one did, not even the contingency from Cahokia. “Then the Great Spirit has spoken,” he said. “I deem this contest a draw.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Cheers erupted from the crowd as Chief Walking Wolf returned the spear to Talako. Buck glanced at Esme, her hands still clenched and tears streaming down her face. He took her hands and uncoiled her fingers. Two deep red welts occupied her palms. He began massaging them.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“You saved him, didn’t you?” he said.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">Her breathing labored, she answered. “It took every ounce of power I have. I couldn’t let him die.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">People began filing out of the arena as Esme regained her composure.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“What now?” he asked.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 16px 0px; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px;">“A meeting with Walking Wolf. You are about to learn why we brought you here.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style";"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style";"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "bookman old style";"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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My
second wife Anne and I had many cats as pets through the years. My first was
King Tut, Anne’s cat, which became part of my family when she and I married.
Glancing through some old pictures, I found images of the second and third cat
members of my family.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .3in;">
Anne and I were in the oil business. A drilling contractor named John
was dating Sheryl, a young woman that worked for Anne and me. He had a little
ranch on the west side of Oklahoma City, several horses, and a barn. Blessed by many barn cats, he gave
two kitties named Buster and Squeaky, to Sheryl. Sheryl kept Buster and gave
Squeaky to Anne and me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Squeaky became our first female cat, and
neither of us realized how fast these beautiful animals mature. Because of our
oversight, Squeaky became pregnant and had a litter of beautiful kittens. We
found good homes for all the kittens except for one, a calico we kept and named
Chani after a character in the Dune series that Anne loved. Squeaky and Chani
soon became inseparable. When Squeaky had her second litter, Chani wasn’t far
away, and often as not in the litter basket with the kittens.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .3in;">
When the oil business busted, Anne and I lost our home and moved to a rented house, Chani, Squeaky and Tut moving
with us. During the difficult years that ensued, we moved five times. Some of
the cats didn’t live that long, but Chani
made all five moves.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .3in;">
Calicos are three-colored cats, and
they are always females. Chani was a gorgeous, three-colored cat with a
distinctive voice. She always let you know when she was around. She loved
affection and would live on your lap if
you’d let her. She also liked to drink water from the tap.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: .3in;">
Chani died at the age of nineteen, still the queen bee of our cat
family until the time of her death. I buried her in the flower bed where she liked to lie in the spring and summer. Now
Anne is dead, a victim of cancer, and spirits
abound around the Wilder household. I’m fairly sure Chani still holds sway over
her departed brothers and sisters. I’m also certain that Squeaky is around and
she and Chani, as they were in life, are again inseparable.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
<o:p></o:p></div>
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</script></div>Eric Wilderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07864203425972170409noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13929766.post-4782609932982431792018-02-04T12:47:00.001-06:002018-10-12T18:18:16.341-05:00Cyndi, Sandy, and Elvis<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I bought
my first motorcycle, an act I now realize symbolized newfound freedom, from Dave B. after divorcing my first wife. Dave now lives
near Baton Rouge and was my best friend
when we both worked as geologists at an Oklahoma City oil company. The rock and
roll world of the last oil boom was hell on marriages, including Dave’s and
mine. Both freshly divorced, we became running buddies. A recent email from my old pal reminded me of one of our adventures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">We both had company cars and what seemed
like endless expense accounts. The loose money was great for attracting attention.
Between us, Dave and I knew practically every female that worked in downtown
Oklahoma City. One night, six oil and gas secretaries persuaded us to spend
some of our money and take them to see an Elvis impersonator. We were easily
convinced.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Three of the young women were crazy about
the recently departed Elvis. The band, backup singers, and Elvis impersonator sounded exactly like Elvis. Well, if you'd
had a few drinks and were sexually excited because of being the center of
attention of six adoring ladies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">The concert was entertaining, further
enhanced when one young lady, in particular, began hitting on me, another on
Dave. When we returned to my apartment, Dave and five of the women departed
while Cyndi (not her real name) came inside with me for a nightcap. Hell, it
was two in the morning! We both had our intentions, and for the moment, I assumed that they were the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">We were sitting on the floor in front of
a fire that I had hastily built in the fireplace, and we were groping around on the rug like a couple of boa
constrictors in heat when the phone rang. I have waited to say that Cyndi was
the girlfriend of a close friend of mine, Mike (not his real name). Mike was
married, Cyndi only his girlfriend, and it is safe to say that he did not
intend to marry her. Cyndi and I were both single.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Have you seen Cyndi?" he
asked, she's not at her apartment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Maybe," I said, our legs
encircled and my hand under her blouse, still clamped on her right breast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">I began to smell a setup when he asked,
"Is she at your place?" Cyndi, I suddenly sensed, had used me to make
Mike jealous. Still very much engulfed in the throes of extreme passion, I
said, "She was here, but she just
left. I think she’s on her way back to her apartment. You need to go
home," I told her after hanging up the phone and zipping up my
pants."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"Are you sure about this?" she
asked, standing and adjusting her own clothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">"There's nothing I would like better
than spending the night with you, but I
think we would both regret it tomorrow."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent: 23.75pt;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";">Cyndi must have agreed because she was
gone in less than five minutes, leaving me to contemplate my unexpected
predicament. After all these years Mike is still my friend, as is Cyndi,
although their relationship ended years ago. I never made it with Cyndi, though sometime later I had a little fling with
Sandy, one of the other girls that Dave and I took to the concert. How did Dave
do that night? I never asked, and he
never volunteered the story.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "serif";"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"> My new book is titled <i>Garden of Forbidden Secrets</i>. It's Book 7 of my French Quarter Mystery Series and is set in New Orleans. I always enjoy writing about New Orleans and this book is no exception. I’m also a huge basketball fan and enjoyed creating Taj Davis, my veteran <span style="font-size: x-small;">NBAer</span>, for this book. If you read my last book <i>Sisters of the Mist</i> then you’ll remember I left Eddie Toledo dangling in the breeze. I’ve resolved his dilemma in this book and I’m seriously thinking about spinning off Eddie into a new series. After you read <i>Garden of Forbidden Desires</i> I would love to hear your reactions and thoughts. The book isn’t yet available for pre-order on Amazon until December 1. Right now it's available in <a href="http://bit.ly/ForbiddenGarden">Nook</a>, <a href="http://bit.ly/GardenofSecrets">iBooks</a>, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/garden-of-forbidden-secrets">Kobo</a>, and <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/903779">Smashwords</a>. Thanks for your support and I hope you love the book when it comes out on March 1, 2019.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>Garden of Forbidden Secrets</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 11.0pt;">A novel by<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Eric Wilder</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "carolingia (bigfoot)"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Chapter 1<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt;">Though only thirty-three years old, Taj Davis was ancient by </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9pt;">NBA</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11pt;"> standards. His surgically repaired left knee still ached whenever he ran or jumped. Arthritis had begun affecting his fingers although no one had yet noticed the knots deforming the digits of his shooting hand. As he followed a bellman down the hallway of a New Orleans hotel, he felt every year of his young age.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj had hoped to play in Cleveland during his final years in the league. An early morning call from an assistant coach had informed him his dream was not to be. He’d had about three hours to pack his apartment before taking a taxi to the airport and flying to New Orleans, the </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">NBA</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"> city that had acquired him in an unexpected mid-season trade.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The bellman stopped in front of a door and opened it with a key, the odor of must and age accosting Taj’s senses as he followed the little man into the room. The bellman, dressed in a red velvet coat, sat the suitcase on the bed and smiled as he palmed the twenty Taj had handed him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Aren’t you Taj Davis?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Right on, brother. What’s your name?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Tommy. You’re way bigger than you look on </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">TV</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">. How tall are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Six-nine. You like basketball, Tommy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The little man massaged the stubble of beard on his chin. “Nothing much I like better, especially the Pelicans. They gonna be champs one of these days.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Hope it’s sooner rather than later,” Taj said. “At least now that I’m in town. I’ve dreamed of a championship ring, and I’m running out of time to find a winning team.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I hear that,” Tommy said. “Hope you’re good enough to replace Zee Ped. He been filling up the baskets lately.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Why in the world did the Pels trade their best player?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Beats the hell out of me,” Tommy said. “Nobody around here knew a thing about the trade until a few hours ago.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Neither did I. An assistant called this morning and told me to meet him in the locker room. He had a plane ticket and itinerary ready for me when I got there. I had no chance to say goodbye to anyone, and barely enough time to pack my apartment.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You mean today was the first you heard?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The curtains on the large room’s windows were open. Taj nodded as he glanced out at the flashing neon of the French Quarter and running lights of boats out on the river.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Had no clue,” he said. “I know it’s late. Any chance of scoring something to eat around here?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You kidding? This the Big Easy. Most places in the French Quarter don’t even get started good until at least midnight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I mean here in the hotel. This unexpected move has me dogged totally out. All I want to do is eat, take a hot bath and then crash.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I hear that. Tell me what you want. I’ll have someone bring it up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Ribeye, rare, and a bottle of your driest cabernet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“The chef makes the best gumbo in town,” Tommy said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Just the steak. I’m not much on seafood.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Better learn to like it,” Tommy said. “You might be here awhile, and this is the gumbo capital of the world.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Hope you’re right about me spending some time here. This is my third team in the past five years. I was hoping to play my final season in Cleveland. Tell you the truth, I’ve never eaten gumbo,” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’ll bring you a cup, along with the steak. Give it a try. Nothing else like it on earth.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“If you say so,” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Ever stayed here before?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“First time. The Cavs use one of the newer hotels on Canal when they come to town. How old is this place?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Just short of a hundred and forty years. The oldest hotel in the French Quarter.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Love it,” Taj said. “The elegance, architecture, and service are impressive. What’s not to like?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Maybe the evil spirits hanging around every corner,” Tommy said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Me and everyone else in town. You might too after tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You know something I need to know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tommy massaged his chin again. “I think I already said too much. I better go get your order in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Not so fast,” Taj said. “You have something to tell me, so. . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“This hotel ain’t just haunted, it has more ghosts than St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 over on Basin Street.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“And. . . ?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“This room, </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">1413</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Go on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“It’s really room </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">1313</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">. This is the thirteenth, not the fourteenth floor. The hotel stopped using it before I came to work here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“How long has that been?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Almost thirty years.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You been here thirty years?” Taj said. “Bet you got lots of stories to tell.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“On anything you want to know about this town.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Then why am I staying in this room if the hotel doesn’t use it anymore?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“We’re busy this time of year, people coming to town to see the Christmas lights and all. Guess management put you here because they couldn’t turn down a call from the Pels, and this was the only room that wasn’t booked.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“It may be haunted, but it has to be the most beautiful suite in town,” Taj said, staring at the panorama through the corner window. “I can’t imagine a better view in New Orleans. Why on earth would the hotel let a few spirits of the night stop them from using it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Because someone was murdered here,” Tommy said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Whoa, man,” Taj said. “Somebody was murdered in this room? You’re making this up, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tommy wasn’t smiling as he shook his head. “A cleaning lady found a body in the bathtub. The murdered woman had a missing head.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“A crime of passion?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Don’t know,” Tommy said. “The police didn’t solve the murder.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“How is that possible?” Taj asked when Tommy grew silent. “Wasn’t she a guest?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Like I said, it happened before I started work here.” Tommy handed Taj the antique key to the room. “I’ll go put in your dinner order.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The little bellman smiled and hurried away down the dimly-lit hallway after Taj had given him another twenty. It was the weekend, the Pelicans on a road trip out west. Taj had until Monday to report to the training facilities. He’d visited New Orleans many times during his tenure in the </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">NBA</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">, though he’d never ventured far from where the Pelicans played basketball at the Smoothie King Center or his hotel room. Tomorrow, he intended to change all that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">After another glance out the window, he shut the curtains. Mid-December, the weather had turned cold. Though not as frigid as Cleveland temperatures, the humid climate in New Orleans was uncomfortable. Taj turned up the thermostat, opened his suitcase, found a sweater and pulled it over his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Checking his email on the cell phone entertained Taj until a white-smocked waiter knocked on the door. The small table on wheels he pushed into the room sported a white tablecloth, fine china, and silverware. After opening the bottle of wine and filling a glass with a ceremonial flair, the waiter accepted Taj’s twenty, departing after saying almost nothing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Nice,” Taj said, sipping the cabernet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj had forgotten Tommy’s story of murder as he twisted the tap on the antique porcelain tub, and then tested the water with his palm. When it grew hot, he returned to eat his steak. He turned up his nose at the steaming cup of gumbo, pushing it aside without so much as tasting it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">As haze wafted up from the tub, Taj sat the wine bottle and his glass on the barbershop tile floor, and then stripped off his clothes. Not bothering to test the temperature, he slid over the side, sinking into the water to the top of his shaved head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj had a powerful frame for such a big man. Used to battling in the paint, he had a chest covered with bruises, contusions, and even a few cuts. The hot water soon began to soothe his sore body, and he finished drinking the wine straight from the bottle. After draining the last drop he closed his eyes, falling asleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">***</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sometime later, Taj’s hand relaxed, and he released his grip on the bottle. His eyes popped open when it shattered on the tile floor. He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but the water had grown tepid. Worse, the lights had gone out, the only illumination coming from a crack in the curtains. When he got out of the tub, he stepped on broken glass, cutting his foot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Finding a towel, he wrapped it around his bleeding foot and hobbled to the window. Unable to find a light switch in the darkness, he pulled open the curtains, red flashing neon from the French Quarter flooding through the window.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The room suddenly grew icy cold. Sticky globules dripped from the windowpane and Taj recoiled when he touched the gooey substance. The inhuman sound of something coming up behind him caused him to wheel around like a frightened cat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Not a person easily startled, Taj recoiled against the wall. The disturbing sound of heavy feet shuffling across the floor, along with the rattle of chains made him do a double take as he wheeled around. What he saw caused him to draw a gasping breath into his lungs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Neither man nor beast, it was instead a cloud of white light with flashes of reds, yellows, and blues. Something alive, though anything but human, reeked of death as it floated toward him, the droning noise emitting from the specter sounding like the muted whine of a revving chainsaw.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Fists clenched in a fighter’s stance, Taj took a swing at the advancing demon. When his hand passed through it, he realized he needed to run instead of fight. Sidestepping the entity, he stumbled to the door. When he reached it, he found it locked, and he couldn’t open it as he glanced over his shoulder at the terrifying apparition cloaked in a pulsating cloud of noxious gases moving ever closer to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">With renewed effort, Taj slammed his fists against the door, trying to break the doorjamb and get away from the supernatural being behind him. He fell on his face into the hallway when it opened of its own accord. Even with the bloody towel wrapped around his cut foot, he sprinted into the arms of an inebriated couple returning from a French Quarter bistro.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj towered over the man and woman. Despite the alcohol they’d both consumed, nothing had prepared them for a meeting with a naked giant. They shouted for help as they hurried away. A dozen doors opened, staring out at the man with wild eyes, bare of clothes and bleeding foot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Hearing the commotion, Tommy came running. When he saw Taj standing naked in the hallway, he grabbed a terrycloth bathrobe from a service cart and tossed it to him. Before Taj could secure the tie around his waist, Tommy had pulled him into an elevator and punched the down button.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What the hell? You gone crazy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Son of a bitch!” Taj said. “You weren’t kidding. That room is haunted. I’ll be damned if I’m going back there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Good God, man! What did you do to your foot?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Stepped on broken glass,” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You’re bleeding on the carpet. We need something to staunch it until I can get you downstairs to a doctor.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tommy stopped on a lower floor and found a handful of towels in a linen closet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Damn glad it was you that showed up and not the police,” Taj said. “My first day with the Pelicans might have been my last.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Got that right,” Tommy said. “You look like you been in a knife fight and got the worst of it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">In the fluorescent lights of the elevator, Taj could see the little man was correct. By now, there was blood all over the bathrobe, and he felt light-headed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You’ll be okay,” Tommy said. “We got a doctor on staff downstairs. He’ll fix you up. What’s that in your hand?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj didn’t realize he was holding anything until he looked and saw it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Recoiling, he let the object drop to his feet. “What in the hell is that thing?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Before answering, Tommy stared with his mouth open as he nudged the gruesome item with the toe of his shoe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Good God almighty!” he said. “Looks like a voodoo doll that somebody just dunked in a bucket of blood. Where’d you get it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“No earthly idea,” Taj said. “I know nothing about voodoo.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Then what about your tattoo?” Tommy asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The white terrycloth bathrobe had splayed open across Taj’s broad chest revealing a strange tattoo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’ve had this thing since I was old enough to remember seeing it. Where it came from, I couldn’t tell you. You think you know what it is?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Voodoo symbol,” Tommy said. “Around here they call them veves.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Voodoo symbol? You’re shittin’ me,” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m not,” Tommy said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Then what the hell does it mean?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tommy wrapped the bloody doll in a towel and picked it up. “Only one that knows that is the witch doctor that marked you with it.”</span><span style="font-family: "bergamo std" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<span style="font-family: "carolingia (bigfoot)"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Chapter 2</span><span style="font-family: "carolingia (bigfoot)"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "30" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape
id="Picture_x0020_4" o:spid="_x0000_i1027" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="Raven[1]"
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o:title="Raven[1]"/>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Though Taj Davis wasn’t oblivious to pain, he’d grown used to it during his seventeen years in the </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">NBA</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">. He hadn’t flinched when the hotel doctor deadened his foot before stitching up the wound. Used to boots and casts, the thick sock over his bandaged foot and the sandal he wore seemed mild to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tommy had retrieved Taj’s bags for him from room </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">1313</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">. After changing into a Cavaliers warm-up uniform, the tall basketball player had fallen asleep in a comfortable chair in the lobby of the old hotel. Tommy was still at work when Taj awoke the next morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Management’s real sorry about what happened last night,” Tommy said. “We moved your bags to a room on the second floor.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tommy smiled and shook his head when Taj asked, “Are there ghosts on the second floor?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“There’s ghost everywhere in the Big Easy but your new room is the safest one in the hotel,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Why are you still at work?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Everyone in town loves the Pels and the hotel’s paying me overtime to stick around and get you settled. Ready to check it out?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj grimaced when he got out of the chair and put weight on his foot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Dammit!” he said. “One day with the Pels and I’m already on the injured list.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Doc White said the cut wasn’t deep. You’ll be fine in a day or two.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“No severed tendons or nerves?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Nope. Just a little soreness. Doc fitted you with a special padded sandal.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj tested it with his weight. “You’re right. It’s a little sore though not bad.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You sure? The hotel has a wheelchair you can use.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tommy’s serious pronouncement brought a grin to Taj’s face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“No wheelchair or crutches for me,” he said. “Not this year, anyway. I’ll be fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj wasn’t so sure after following Tommy to the elevator. This time, the little bellman opened the door of his new hotel room with an electronic card instead of an antique key. When they entered, there was no smell of must or age. Everything was perfect, except for the view that didn’t hold a candle to the one he’d had the previous night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj’s suitcase was waiting on the bed, his hanging clothes on a rack. He almost panicked when he realized he didn’t have his wallet. Tommy grinned and handed it to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Lucky for you I’m not a thief,” the little man said. “Must be a couple thousand dollars in cash in there.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m not much for credit cards,” Taj said, handing him a twenty before tossing the wallet on the bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“With the money you fellas earn in the </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">NBA</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">, it must be nice.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I had a couple of big paydays. Now, I’m on a veteran’s minimum salary.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Still a million bucks, or more, I’ll bet,” Tommy said. “I’ll never make that much in my whole life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Just dumb luck on my part,” Taj said. “Not everybody is six-nine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“It ain’t luck,” Tommy said. “Few big men can ball like you, You had to work at it to get as good as you are.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj grabbed the wallet off the bed and handed Tommy another bill from it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You just earned yourself an extra twenty,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Hey, thanks,” Tommy said. “If everything’s okay, then I’m on my way to the house for a little sack time. At least if my old lady don’t want to go dancing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj grinned at Tommy’s retort about his old lady. He stopped the little bellman with a question before he could get out the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“A question before you leave,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Ask me,” Tommy said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I don’t have to report to the team until Monday. Where can I go to get some info about the tattoo on my chest, and the bloody voodoo doll I was carrying last night?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Some things are best left alone,” Tommy said. “What happened last night might be one of them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Ain’t happening,” Taj said. “I need answers. Forgetting about what happened last night isn’t an option.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Your balls,” Tommy said with a grin. “Lots of voodoo shops, mostly tourist traps, in the Quarter. There’s one a few blocks from here on Dumaine. Someone there might be able to help you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">You think the voodoo doll came from that shop?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You’re asking the wrong person,” Tommy said. “I don’t have a clue.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Sure about that?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“They’s people that practice voodoo in Nawlins. I ain’t one of them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What about the blood? Where did it come from?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“From that cut on your foot,” Tommy said. “Where else could it have come from?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“How did the damn doll get into my room, and why didn’t I know I was carrying it when you found me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“This is New Orleans,” Tommy said. “Live here as long as I have and you come to expect the unexpected.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Not the answer I’m looking for,” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tommy glanced at his watch. “Maybe someone at the voodoo shop can give you some answers. Me, I’m fresh out and tired as hell.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“All right,” Taj said. “I know you’re anxious to get out of here. What’s the name of the place on Dumaine?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Dr. Voodoo’s Spells and Hexes,” Tommy said as he hurried out the door, not waiting for Taj’s next question.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">***</span></div>
</div>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">In deference to his sore foot, Taj took a cab to Dumaine. After signing an autograph for the star-struck cabbie, he stood outside Dr. Voodoo’s Spells and Hexes, staring at the voodoo dolls, African masks, and drums in the picture window. When a cold breeze whistled down the street, he pulled the black leather trench coat tighter around his neck as two lightly-dressed tourists brushed past him on the sidewalk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">A bell on the door, pealing the theme song of some horror movie Taj barely remembered, sounded when he entered. Welcome warmth and the odor of pungent incense accosted his nostrils as the door shut behind him. The sound of voodoo drums emanated from speakers hidden behind the rows of African masks and grotesquely carved effigies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The little shop was empty of tourists and Taj jumped when someone behind him spoke. A portly man with a cookie duster mustache was grinning at him when he wheeled around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Didn’t mean to scare you, big guy. Hep you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj showed him the bloody voodoo doll. “I’m wondering if this may have come from your shop.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Whoa, don’t hand it to me. Where’d you get that thing?” the man asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“My hotel room. I was hoping someone could tell me something about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Aren’t you Taj Davis?” the man asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I am. You?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Tammany Louis Lafourche the Third,” he said. “I’d shake your hand but I don’t want to touch that thing you’re holding.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You have voodoo dolls all over the store. What’s wrong with this one?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“It’s covered in blood for one thing. Most of my dolls are made in China. I can see right off the bat the one in your hand is the real Magilla.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">When Taj leaned forward, Lafourche took a step backward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m big and black but I promise I won’t hurt you,” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m not worried about you,” Lafourche said. “It’s that thing in your hand. It’s bad news.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“How so?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“From the looks of that bandage on your foot, I’m guessing the blood on the voodoo doll is yours. Am I wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“It’s mine. So what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“My guess is you got that wound by design.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“An accident,” Taj said. “Stepped on broken glass.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Somebody hexed you is what I think,” Lafourche said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj glanced at Lafourche, searching for a grin or some other sign he was having his leg pulled. Lafourche wasn’t smiling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You don’t believe in that sort of thing, do you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I was born and raised right here in New Orleans. I don’t just believe it, I know it’s a fact.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">It was Taj’s turn to smile. “Even if what you say is true, who would have a reason to put a hex on me?” he asked. “I’ve only been in town since last night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I heard,” Lafourche said. “The whole town’s talking about you joining the Pels.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Is that bad or good?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Lafourche hesitated before answering. “Mixed feelings, mostly bad. Zee Ped’s an All-Star. Everyone knows you’re good but. . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m too old?” Taj said, finishing LaFourche’s sentence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Almost ten years older than Zee Ped. He’s the best player on the Pels. At least he was.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Sorry,” Taj said. “I had no choice in the matter. I’m as confused as you about what I’m doing here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“May have something to do with that thing in your hand,” Lafourche said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What the hell do you mean by that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Someone may have wanted you here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“For what reason?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Maybe unfinished business. You’d know the answer to that better than me,” Lafourche said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I don’t know anything. I came here for answers, not more questions.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m as in the dark as you are,” Lafourche said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You know about voodoo dolls. It’s how you make a living. What makes you think this one is real?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The drumming soundtrack segued into an African chant as LaFourche leaned back against a display case filled with polished wooden masks and pottery effigies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’ve owned this shop for eighteen years. While most everything in the place is no more than a tourist souvenir, I’ve learned a thing or two about voodoo along the way,” Lafourche said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“So you’re telling me that this is a real voodoo doll?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“It didn’t come from this shop.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What about another shop in town?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“That doll didn’t come from a shop. A real voodoo houngan or mambo constructed it. A ceremony was performed, you can bet on it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“How can you possibly know that?” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Your doll’s made of bleached cloth wrapped around two sticks of different sizes. Those sticks represent the cross. Bet they’re even made from the same tree they used to crucify Christ on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What’s Christianity got to do with voodoo?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Vodoun is a religion brought over by slaves from West Africa. When they reached the West Indies, the religion began changing. Vodoun, Catholicism, and pagan Carib beliefs got all mixed up at the sugar plantations and morphed into what we now know as voodoo. At least until it reached New Orleans and then it changed even more.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"> “You’re white. I always thought voodoo was only practiced by blacks.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You’d be wrong about that,” Lafourche said. “One of the most powerful voodoo practitioners ever was a Jew.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You don’t practice, do you?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I bought this shop from an old voodoo woman. A real voodoo woman. Voodoo dolls are my main business and I learned everything I know about them from her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Just the dolls or all about voodoo?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Few people know what voodoo is really about. Practitioners can be powerful, and dangerous. I’ve purposely kept my nose out of their business.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I don’t have that luxury,” Taj said. “What’s the deal with this voodoo doll?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“When it’s cold outside, my business is slow,” Lafourche said, glancing around the shop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Catching the drift, Taj reached for his wallet and handed him a twenty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Does that warm things up for you?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m still a little chilly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj handed him two more twenties. “Warm enough?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Lafourche stashed the bills in the pocket of the cracked leather vest he wore over his threadbare Western shirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Like I was saying, the two sticks represent the cross. Bleached cloth is wrapped around the sticks to form the doll.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“That it?” Taj asked when Lafourche grew silent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“The cloth is the property of the victim of the doll. The person that made the doll either stole it from the intended victim or paid someone to steal it. Once the houngan or mambo gets it, they bleach it in a voodoo ceremony. Then they use it to construct the doll.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Get real!” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“The more personal the connection, the more powerful the spell. The rotations around the sticks, the direction it’s wrapped and where it’s tied off at all have meaning to the person that’s the object of the doll. The more precise the construction the more powerful the spell.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Surely, you don’t believe all that malarkey,” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The African chant coming through the speakers crescendoed and transitioned back into drumming. Lafourche glanced around the little shop as if expecting to see someone listening to their conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Let me just say that I wouldn’t want to be the person this doll was made for. If it’s you, then you got a problem. Hell, the whole damn town’s been hexed because the team lost its best player to get you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">When Lafourche turned to walk away, Taj grabbed his shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Wait just a minute,” he said. “I paid you sixty bucks. Is that all you got?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Like you said, I’m white. What the hell do I know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“More than me,” Taj said. “I gave you sixty bucks and I have more questions.” Taj pulled three more twenties from his wallet and thrust them at Lafourche. “Will these help jog your memory?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Lafourche shook his head. “Keep your money. I can’t help you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“At least point me toward someone that can.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“There’s a cemetery tour starting in twenty minutes. Maybe the tour guide can help you fill in the blanks. Want me to sign you up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<b><span style="font-family: "carolingia (bigfoot)"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Chapter 3</span></b><span style="font-family: "carolingia (bigfoot)"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-no-proof: yes;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "30" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape
id="Picture_x0020_5" o:spid="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="Raven[1]"
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Realizing that </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Tammany Louis Lafourche the Third was unable or unwilling to answer any further questions, Taj let him sign him up for a tour of the St. Louis #1 Cemetery. Lafourche disappeared in the back and didn’t return, even when the same young couple he’d passed on the sidewalk entered the shop to the chiming of bells.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Are we in the right place for the cemetery tour?” the young woman asked him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Yes,” Taj said. “It’s also why I’m here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The couple looked no older than mid-twenties, the woman’s midwestern accent tipping him off that they weren’t locals. She’d apparently expected warmer weather because of the abbreviated denim shorts she wore and the lightweight maize and blue parka zipped open enough that he could see her University of Michigan tee shirt. The stunningly gorgeous young woman had long red hair, creamy-white skin, expressive brown eyes, and stood five-foot-seven or eight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Her slender and shorter husband/boyfriend wearing an identical parka had his head in a guidebook. When he glanced up and saw Taj, he pushed his John Lennon glasses to his forehead. Apparently, neither of the two were into sports because they didn’t seem to recognize him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m Amy,” the young woman said. “This is Brian. We’re students at Michigan and decided to visit New Orleans over the Christmas break.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m Taj,” he said, shaking the young woman’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Are you from out of town?” Brian asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj had stuffed the voodoo doll into a baggie that Tommy had given him and stashed it in his trenchcoat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Something like that,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Amy with the wavy auburn hair was smiling but Brian had a look of abject terror on his baby face. Taj was used to the reaction. People aren’t always prepared to meet a physically imposing six-foot nine-inch black man dressed in a knee-length black leather trenchcoat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m a history buff,” Taj said. “A friend told me these cemetery tours aren’t to be missed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Brian’s concerned expression quickly became a smile. “Us too,” he said. “I major in American history and hope to be a professor someday. It’s my passion.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What about you, Amy?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Don’t know what I want to do for the rest of my life yet,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The chime on the door sounded before Amy could ask him what he did. An older man wearing a yellow vest over his jacket rubbed his hands together to warm them. The plastic nametag hanging from his neck pegged him as the tour guide.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/u/1/blogger.g?blogID=13929766" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “The wind’s a little stiff out there and I had to run back home and get a heavier coat. I’m Garlen, your tour guide.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj noticed the dirty look Amy flashed Brian at Garlen’s mention of a heavier coat. Her reaction lasted only a moment and she was smiling when she turned and shook Garlen’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m Amy,” she said. “Brian is the one that looks like an aspiring college professor. Taj is the gentleman in the black coat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Pleased to meet you,” Garlen said. “Hope that windbreaker keeps you warm enough, young lady.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Brian said New Orleans would be warm this time of year.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“It is,” Brian said. “At least when compared to Ann Arbor.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Amy gave Brian another dirty look.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“The humidity in New Orleans makes every little chill seem much colder than it really is,” Garlen said. “At least we’ll be out of the wind when we reach St. Louis #1.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Garlen, like Amy and Brian, apparently had no idea who Taj was. That was all right with him as he listened to the trio’s banter as he followed them down the Basin Street sidewalk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Though Taj knew that most of the graves in New Orleans were above ground, he wasn’t prepared for the eerie feeling of deja vu that warmed his neck upon seeing the brick and stone monoliths. Garlen was correct. The wall around the cemetery blocked the wind when they entered the gate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“This is the oldest cemetery in New Orleans,” Garlen said. “The spirit home of many famous citizens. Mark Twain called our cemeteries “Cities of the dead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“This place is amazing,” Brian said, glancing around. “The tombs are so large and ornate and the paths between them so narrow they seem to close in around you. What do you think, Amy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“My skin is crawling,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You can’t be serious. This place is awesome. What’s the matter?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Spirits of the dead; I can feel their cold breath on my neck,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You’re shivering,” Brian said, putting his arms around her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Brian, I don’t like it here. I want to go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“But you’re being irrational,” he said. “It’s broad daylight. There are no ghosts.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You stay. I’ll walk back to the car and wait for you there,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Brian shrugged his shoulders and shook his head as he cast a distressed look at Garlen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“So sorry,” he said as he followed her out the gate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Garlen turned to Taj as a cold rain began to fall. “Under the circumstances, I’m calling off the tour. They’ll give you a raincheck back at the shop.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Wait,” Taj said as Garlen walked away. “I have questions I need to be answered.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Next time,” Garlen said. “It doesn’t just rain in New Orleans, it pours.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">A gentle rain began dimpling the dark leather of his coat as he watched the tour guide disappear through the fence. An unexpected voice startled him back to reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Get in here before the sky opens up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">An older black man was holding open the door of an outbuilding Taj hadn’t seen when they entered the cemetery. He followed him into the little building as rain began falling harder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">There were no windows, the air stale, the little room dim, lighted only by a blazing potbelly stove and a few candles. There were a couple of ramshackle chairs and an old cot draped with pillow and bedclothes. The floor was dirt. Through the crack in the door, Taj could hear the drumming of heavy rain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Who are you?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The man chuckled. “The keeper of cemeteries and lost souls. At least that’s the way I feel sometimes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Are you the caretaker?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Something like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m Taj. What’s your name?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“People call me lots of things. You can call me Sam. You told that man you got questions.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“And I was hoping for some answers,” Taj said. “Guess I’ll have to find them someplace else.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sam chuckled. “You weren’t going to get the answers you need from that man. Hell, the girl with the prissy boyfriend knows more about spirits than he do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“How do you know that?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Old Sam here knows lots of things.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“But she’s white.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Hell, boy, there ain’t no black or white in Nawlins.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“That girl’s from Michigan; not New Orleans.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Some people don’t have the foggiest idea where they’re really from,” Sam said, fluffing the pillow on the cot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj let the comment pass. During his tenure in the </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">NBA</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">, he had developed an eye for his opponents' height, weight, and age. Sam, he guessed was about five-eight and probably somewhere north of fifty years old. Despite the gloomy day, he had a pair of dark sunglasses perched atop his head. The stub of his lit cigar came out of his mouth only when he talked. Moving the pillow aside, he plopped down on the cot, propping his feet up on a packing crate. Taj grinned when he noticed the holes in his dirty white socks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Gonna be raining awhile,” he said. “Grab a chair and take a load off. Like I say, that white man don’t know a damn thing about voodoo anyway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Think I’ll stand,” Taj said, glancing at the rickety chair he doubted would support his weight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Want something to drink?” Sam asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Sure. My body is wet but my mouth is kind of dry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sam retrieved a gallon jug of red wine from behind his cot, screwed open the metal cap, slung the bottle over his shoulder and drank straight from the container.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Nothing I like much better than </span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;">MD 20-20</span><span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">,”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj took the bottle, laughing before he took a swig. It was Sam’s turn to laugh when at the face Taj made as a few drops of wine dribbled down his chin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Haven’t had any Mad Dog since I was a freshman in college,” Taj said, his smile returning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Good for what ails you,” Sam said. “Have another taste.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj was smiling and shaking his head as he handed the jug of wine back to Sam.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Thanks, anyway,” he said. “One pull was all I needed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Suit yourself,” Sam said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">By now, the rain was falling in bucketloads outside the little room, humid air flooding through the partly open door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“How’d you know my question was about voodoo?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Hell, boy, that silk shirt of yours is open to the waist and even in the dark and half covered by that big old gold chain, I can see the veve tattooed on your chest.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sam chuckled again when Taj asked, “You know what it means?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Why hell no. Only the houngan or mambo that put it there knows the answer to that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“That’s what I heard,” Taj said. “How do you know so much about voodoo?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Who say I do?” Sam said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Do you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Ain’t no one in Nawlins’ that don’t know something about voodoo.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj reached into his coat for the voodoo doll. “What can you tell me about this?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sam, unmindful of the blood, took the doll. “Somebody got it in for you, I’d say.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Because?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Cause this is your doll.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What do you mean by that?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sam removed a hair from the doll and handed it to Taj. “Looks like it came from your beard.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“That’s crazy talk. It probably stuck to the doll when I was handling it,” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What about this?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Rain continued falling outside the little room as Sam dropped something into Taj’s palm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“A fingernail. What makes you think it’s mine?” Taj asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Is it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">A sliver of purplish skin hung from the fingernail. Taj glanced at the ring finger on his left hand at the blackened nail he’d damaged in a recent basketball game.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“If it is mine, how would anyone have gotten it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Voodoo practitioners have long arms. Might surprise you who could have got it for them. For a price, that is.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Taj recalled the woman he’d met in a bar after the game that night. An overly friendly young woman with a southern accent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m having trouble believing all of this,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You believed it enough to come looking for answers,” Sam said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“You think someone’s trying to kill me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Getting hexed with a voodoo doll don’t necessarily mean someone’s trying to kill you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Then what does it mean?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Someone’s controlling your actions.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“A voodoo witch doctor?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Practitioners make their living casting spells. Someone probably hired them to do it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“For what reason?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sam shook his head. “You wronged anyone lately? Screwed someone else’s wife or took something that didn’t belong to you? Hell, man! It could be almost anything.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I’m not a perfect person though I can’t think of anyone I’ve wronged lately,” Taj said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Then search your soul. You did something to somebody and they’re pissed off about it. That, I can promise you,” Sam said. “Or. . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Or what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Someone might be trying to send you a message.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Before Taj could reply, the heavy door banged against the wall as a gust of wind blew it open. Sucking the air out of the room, it extinguished all the candles when it slammed shut again. Sam padded across the dirt floor, relighting the candles with what looked like a flame coming directly from his fingers. Taj waited until he’d returned to his perch on the cot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“I need help,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“What you need is the right person to help you,” Sam said. “A knowledgeable houngan or a mambo.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Can you refer me to one?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“There’s a very powerful mambo I’ve had dealings with from time to time,” Sam said. “I’m betting she can help you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoPlainTextCxSpLast" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in;">
<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Tell me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">“Her name is Mama Mulate.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
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Here are the full cover and the synopsis of French Quarter Mystery #6. Released on Christmas day, Sisters of the Mist is available at <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sisters-of-the-mist-eric-wilder/1127100484?ean=2940154550519">Barnes & Noble</a>, <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/sisters-of-the-mist/id1282832583?mt=11">Apple iBooks</a>, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?Query=Sisters%20of%20the%20Mist%20(Eric%20Wilder)&ac=1&acp=eric%20wilder&ac.title=Sisters%20of%20the%20Mist&ac.author=Eric%20Wilder">Kobo</a>, and <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/747960">Smashwords</a>, and <a href="https://t.co/xc1nlqFVbP">Amazon</a>. I had a blast writing Sisters. The story took me to places I never thought I'd go, and that I didn't even know existed (now I do!). Hope you love reading Sisters of the Mist as much as I loved writing it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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SYNOPSIS<o:p></o:p></div>
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When his cat awakens Wyatt Thomas from a fitful dream and leads him outside to his second-story balcony, he watches in disbelief as a ghostly funeral procession passes on the street below. The lone woman staring up at him from a dark hearse is Desire Vallee, his former lover. She’d disappeared after her twin sister had jumped from a bridge to her death, and it’s the first time he’d seen her since then. Convinced she’s in grave peril, Wyatt begins a search to find her. His quest leads him through haunted cemeteries and back alleys of New Orleans, and finally to a mysterious castle hidden deep in the Honey Island Swamp. Will he be able to rescue Desire and exorcise her demons, or die himself trying? Sisters of the Mist is Book 6 of the French Quarter Mystery series set in that exotic, erotic Mecca known as New Orleans.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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In Sisters of the Mist, sleuth Wyatt Thomas is awakened from a dream by Kisses his cat. A thick fog is rolling in off the river as Wyatt follows Kisses out to his French Quarter balcony overlooking Chartres Street. Half asleep and perhaps still dreaming, Wyatt watches as a ghostly funeral procession proceeds up the street. He senses that the person in the hearse is Desire his former lover who has gone missing. When he finds a mysterious object on the balcony, he is sure of it.<br />
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Before setting out on an odyssey that will ultimately lead him to a forbidden convent deep in the Honey Island Swamp, Wyatt spends a day at the horse races with friend and Federal District Attorney Eddie Toledo. The ensuing murder of a jockey and trainer and disappearance of a valuable racehorse propels Eddie on his own journey of discovery. <a href="http://amzn.to/2yMDH7N">Sisters of the Mist</a> is Book No. 6 of my standalone <a href="https://t.co/X3SlDnDcTL">French Quarter Mystery Series</a>. I hope you love it.</div>
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<b>Chapter 2</b></div>
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A gloomy day had turned rainy and overcast as Eddie Toledo waited in the drizzle outside the main building of the racetrack. The rain had begun dampening his long hair. Pulling the trench coat over his head, he gave up his grandstand seat and made a run for the entrance. After a quick glance at his watch, he let the door shut behind him.</div>
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His friend, Wyatt Thomas was thirty minutes late. It was still an hour before the first race. Plenty of time to lay a bet or two. He double-stepped up the escalator to an upstairs bar he liked, planning to settle in at a table overlooking the track.</div>
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Eddie had invited two attractive women he’d met at Bertram Picou’s Chartres Street bar. They hadn’t shown, and he was miffed. What he needed now were a stiff drink and a racing form. He could get the former in the dark bar; the latter could wait. As he approached the bar, a familiar voice called to him.</div>
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“Trying to ignore us, Mr. D.A.?”</div>
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Eddie could barely see the person who had just spoken, though he recognized the gravelly voice in an instant.</div>
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“Mr. Castellano,” he said, shaking the older man’s hand.</div>
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“It’s Frankie,” the man said. “My dad was Mr. Castellano.”</div>
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Castellano was probably mid-sixties with black hair just beginning to gray around the edges. A red carnation matching the silk handkerchief in his coat pocket protruded from the lapel of his seersucker suit. Had it not been so dark in the cozy fern bar overlooking the expansive racetrack, you could have seen your reflection in his thousand dollar shoes. Frankie wasn’t alone. His companion, a very attractive, middle-aged woman, bounded from her seat and hugged Eddie.</div>
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“How you been?” she said in her Italian-laced, old Metairie accent.</div>
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“Adele! Been missing you, babe. How’s marriage treating you?”</div>
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“Frankie swept me off my feet the first time I met him. Things haven’t changed. We been to Italy twice, Bermuda and two cruises. Believe me when I tell you I’m ready to stay home awhile and cook cannolis and lasagna for my wonderful husband.”</div>
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Adele had dark hair and eyes, and a perfect olive complexion. Her welcoming smile left no doubt about how much she liked Eddie. Another woman was with the happy couple. When Eddie’s eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, he saw she looked like a young Sophia Loren. Their eyes locked. For the first time in his life, he was speechless. Frankie rescued him.</div>
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“Don’t have a coronary. This is my daughter, Josie.”</div>
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“Then you better shoot me now because I think I’m in love.”</div>
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The comment brought a frown to Frankie’s face and a smile to the young woman as Eddie grasped her hand. He was wrong. She didn’t look like Sophia Loren. More like a Greek goddess with dark liquid eyes and black hair braided in intricate cornrows. Her black dress matched Adele’s, and he could only catch his breath.</div>
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Adele bumped his shoulder with the palm of her hand. “What’s the matter, Eddie? Never seen a pretty girl before?”</div>
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“Sorry,” he said, regaining his senses. “It’s just I didn’t expect to be in the presence of the two most gorgeous women in New Orleans.”</div>
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“You haven’t changed a bit,” Adele said, hugging him again.</div>
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“Watch it,” Frankie said. “Don’t be disrespectful or I may have to bump you off.”</div>
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“Something I would never do,” Eddie said. “But you’d kill me now if you knew the thoughts I’m having about your beautiful daughter.”</div>
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When Frankie frowned and started to stand, Josie grabbed his arm. She was laughing, her eyes dancing.</div>
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“He’s just kidding, Papa. Isn’t someone going to introduce us?”</div>
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“This pretty boy with the big mouth is Eddie Toledo. A Federal D.A. who works with the G-men downtown.”</div>
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Josie ignored her dad’s sarcasm. “Happy to meet you, Eddie,” she said. “Will you join us?”</div>
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Frankie grumbled as Eddie grabbed the chair beside Josie. His daughter’s laughter had abated his anger. It helped when Adele kissed his forehead, sat in his lap, and squeezed him to her ample breasts.</div>
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With the races nearing, patrons had begun pouring into the bar. Frankie’s table was the best seat in the house with a panoramic view of the track through the wall-sized window fronting the room. Frankie’s frown returned.</div>
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“What’s the matter?” Eddie asked. “Your horse throw a shoe before the big race?”</div>
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“I don’t own quarter horses,” Frankie said.</div>
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“Oh, why not?”</div>
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“Thoroughbred racing is the sport of kings. Nobody likes quarter horses except a bunch of damn Mexicans.”</div>
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“You kidding me?” Eddie said. “Quarter horses are among the fastest animals on earth. It’s still misting rain, and just take a gander at all those people filling the outside grandstand. What do you have against Mexicans?”</div>
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“They been flooding the place ever since Katrina. Taking jobs that should go to Americans; living off welfare and paying no taxes. They also control the quarter horse business around here and it’s time someone investigated.”</div>
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“Is that a hint?” Eddie asked.</div>
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“Someone needs to stop their nonsense.”</div>
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“Most Mexicans I know are hard-working, church-going, law-abiding citizens,” Eddie said.</div>
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Frankie snickered. “Now I get it. You’re a tree-hugging, bleeding heart liberal. I hope, at least, you’re not on their payroll.”</div>
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Eddie let the thinly veiled accusation of corruption pass without replying to it.</div>
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“I’m here to watch the ponies run, not to talk politics,” he said. “If you don’t like quarter horses, what are you doing here?”</div>
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Josie raised a hand. “Blame me. They’re my favorite. I dragged Dad and Adele with me. He couldn’t come to a horse race without an entry so he bought one.”</div>
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“You’re running a horse today?” Eddie asked. “Thought you said you don’t own quarter horses.”</div>
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“For Josie, I made an exception.”</div>
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“And where did you get the horse?”</div>
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“Just an old nag I picked up for next to nothing. Like Josie said, I hate watching a horse race unless I have one running.”</div>
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“Uh huh. How’d you get a trainer and a jockey so fast?”</div>
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Josie answered the question for him. “Dad has a horse farm north of Covington. Murky Bayou Farms. One hundred eighty acre working horse facility. All pasture under fence with pipe on three sides. Three stock ponds, 16,000 square foot metal barn with twenty-four twelve by twelve stalls, tack room, feed room, wash rack, stocks, and storage galore. Exceptional apartment above barn with three bedrooms and two baths. Ten loafing sheds in pasture.”</div>
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“You sound like a real estate agent,” Eddie said.</div>
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Josie nodded. “Because that’s what I am.”</div>
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“Josie’s been in the ten million dollar club three years in a row,” Adele said.</div>
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“Impressive,” Eddie said.</div>
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“Are you in the market for a horse farm, Eddie?” Josie asked.</div>
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He laughed. “Never gonna happen on my salary,” he said.</div>
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Frankie frowned when Josie said, “You can visit Murky Bayou Farms anytime you like.”</div>
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“Sounds secluded,” Eddie said.</div>
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“On the banks of a scenic bayou and ten miles from the nearest town. It’s like a slice of heaven on earth. Dad’s not a fan.”</div>
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“Give me the city anytime. I don’t like having to drive twenty miles for a decent plate of spaghetti,” Eddie said.</div>
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“You don’t have to drive anywhere,” Josie said. “You have a world-class chef that works full-time at the farm and cooks you anything you like.”</div>
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“That just ain’t the same,” Frankie said.</div>
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“Sounds like heaven to me. Josie, I’ll take you up on that offer,” Eddie said. “I love horses.”</div>
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“Want to see Dad’s quarter horse?” Josie asked.</div>
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“Love to.”</div>
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“You’ll miss the first race,” Frankie said. “Who you betting on?”</div>
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“I don’t even have a racing form yet. You betting?”</div>
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“Always, even if they are quarter horses.”</div>
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“Then here’s a twenty. Can you pick a winner for me?”</div>
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“You trust me with your money?” Frankie said.</div>
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“You kidding? If I had your money, I’d burn mine.”</div>
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Josie grabbed Eddie’s hand. “We’ll be back,” she said.</div>
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She led him through the crowd starting to gather for the first race. It was still misting rain when they reached the paddock. Eddie didn’t care, too enthralled by the gorgeous young woman pulling him through the throng of spectators viewing the horses parading out for the first race. The crowd abated when they reached the stalls.</div>
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“That’s Lightning Bolt,” she said.</div>
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She petted the mane of the black stallion, its head protruding from the stall.</div>
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“This is your dad’s horse?” Eddie asked.</div>
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“Isn’t he beautiful?”</div>
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“Doesn’t look like a nag to me. Check out his muscular hindquarters and barrel chest. He’s the best looking horse in the paddock area.”</div>
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“He’s gorgeous,” Josie said. “I love the lightning-shaped blaze on his face. That’s how he got his name.”</div>
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Eddie touched the horse’s forehead. “What blaze?” he asked.</div>
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Josie touched the wet dye on Lightning Bolt’s forehead.</div>
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“I think someone must have put shoe polish to cover it up.”</div>
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“Why would they do that?”</div>
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“No idea. You’ll have to ask Dad,” she said,</div>
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Even without the distinctive blaze, the horse was gorgeous. Someone had braided its mane and tail with a red ribbon and decorated his fetlocks with bright red tape. He looked ready for a horse show competition.</div>
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“The way he’s all dolled up, someone must expect him to win.”</div>
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“Dad says he’s never won a race. Precisely the reason he was able to purchase him so cheaply. He’s forty-to-one in the morning line.”</div>
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“Guess looks are deceiving,” Eddie said. “We better head back. From the sound of the crowd, the first race just finished. If we stay away much longer, your dad will come looking for me with a gun.”</div>
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“He wouldn’t do that, silly. Dad’s a pussycat.”</div>
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Eddie knew differently, though refrained from voicing his opinion. He followed her through the crowd of people, some with smiles, others with frowns, returning from the betting windows.</div>
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“If you say so,” he said.</div>
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Adele was back in Frankie’s lap and both were smiling when Josie and Eddie joined them at the table overlooking the track. Frankie handed Eddie a wad of cash.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“You won,” he said.</div>
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“Wow! Must have been a long shot.”</div>
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“Can’t make any money betting on the favorite,” Frankie said.</div>
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“How’d you know it would win?”</div>
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“Betters’ luck,” Eddie said. “There’s no other way to bet on these damn quarter horses.”</div>
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A waitress in a revealing skirt and skimpy blouse brought everyone fresh drinks. Josie saw Eddie glancing at the young woman’s long legs clad sexily in black mesh stockings. She smiled at him when he realized she’d caught him looking. He grinned back at her and shrugged his shoulders. Adele also noticed.</div>
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“Eddie likes the ladies,” she said.</div>
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“Guilty as charged, Your Honor,” he said.</div>
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“At least he ain’t looking at my legs,” Frankie said. The comment caused both Josie and Adele to erupt into laughter. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.</div>
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Neither of them answered, or stopped laughing. Frankie rolled his eyes as he sipped his drink.</div>
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“Can I have a look at your racing form?” Eddie said.</div>
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Frankie handed it to him. “For all the good it’ll do you,” he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
Eddie thumbed through the magazine. “Is pure speed all you look at?” he asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“Lots more than that,” Josie said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“Please tell me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“The races are short. Most are less than a quarter mile and last only twenty seconds, or so.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“What’s your point?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“There’s not much time to correct if a mistake is made coming out of the gate. A bump can end a horse’s race before it gets started. There’s also the matter of track bias.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“Most of the races have no turns,” Eddie said. “How can there be a track bias?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
Josie handed him a pair of powerful binoculars. “Look at the turf directly in front of the gate. Specifically, the fifth through the tenth spots. What do you see?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“The dirt’s not as even,” he said.</div>
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“Whoever smoothed the track left the turf in front of the last five slots deeper and more furrowed than the first five.”</div>
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“That can’t make that much of a difference,” Eddie said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“In a race that takes only twenty seconds to complete, every tenth is critical. Trust me. In this race, horses one through five have a definite advantage. Gate three has the smoothest exit from the gate.”</div>
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Eddie glanced at the racing form. “The number three horse is a twelve to one long shot.”</div>
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“And it’s the horse I’m betting on,” Josie said.</div>
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Frankie didn’t comment, though Eddie noticed his wry smile.</div>
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“Tell us who you’re betting on, Frankie,” he said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“Not the three horse.”</div>
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“You think he’s too much of a long shot, even with the favorable track bias?” Eddie asked.</div>
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“Nope,” he said. “I think an even bigger long shot will win.”</div>
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“You know something you’re not telling us?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“The number three is a plant. Everyone in the paddock knows he’s supposed to win. He’ll be bet down to less than three to one by the time they come out of the gate.”</div>
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“This is all sounding complicated,” Eddie said. “How do you know so much?”</div>
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“The four horse is gonna come across the track and bump the three,” Frankie said. “He’ll veer to the left and take out the one and two. The six horse is a twenty to one that’s never won a race. It’ll win this one.”</div>
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“How do you know that?” Eddie demanded.</div>
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“His owner is Diego Contrado, the nephew of Chuy Delgado.”</div>
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Chuy Delgado, the Mexican drug lord?” Eddie asked. Frankie nodded. “Should I believe you?”</div>
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“I didn’t make it up.”</div>
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“Who owns the number four?” Eddie asked.</div>
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“Angus Anderson. He owns the three and the four.”</div>
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“Angus Anderson, the president of Anderson Energy Corporation?”</div>
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“Probably the richest man in New Orleans. He’s also a media mogul and owns more radio and TV stations, newspapers, and Internet properties than you can count.”</div>
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“The four is the favorite to win. Why would he ruin his own horse’s chance to help Chuy Delgado?” Eddie asked.</div>
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“Maybe he owes him a favor.”</div>
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“If what you say is true, your sources are better than those we have downtown. Who are your sources?”</div>
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“I didn’t say,” Frankie said.</div>
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“You know I can subpoena you and get all the answers I need,” Eddie said.</div>
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Frankie smiled again. “Answers to what?” I can’t even remember what we were talking about.”</div>
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Eddie took a deep breath as he stared at Frankie. “I gotcha,” he said. “You’re probably pulling my leg, anyway. Horses one and two are both good bets. If the four doesn’t win, my money says it’ll be the one or the two.”</div>
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“You’re a smart man, Eddie. I wouldn’t bet all my money on it if I were you.”</div>
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“Stop it, you two,” Adele said. “We’re here to have fun.”</div>
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“She’s right, you know?” Josie said. “You shouldn’t disrespect your new bride by arguing in front of her.”</div>
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Frankie grabbed Adele’s hand and kissed it. “My wonderful daughter speaks the truth. Please accept my humble apology. There’ll be no more harsh words out of my mouth the rest of the day. Forgive me?”</div>
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Adele hugged his neck. “You big galoot, you know I do.”</div>
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“I’m also sorry,” Eddie said. “Let me buy the next round of drinks. I’m on vacation for the whole week. I intend to quit thinking about work, and I promise to keep my big mouth shut.”</div>
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“Good idea,” Frankie said. “I’m gonna place my bet. You coming, Josie?”</div>
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Josie grabbed Eddie’s wrist again. “Come with me to the betting window?”</div>
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“Why not? I have money burning a hole in my pocket.”</div>
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“Not for very long unless you take my advice,” Frankie said.</div>
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Frankie hurried ahead through the crowd, Josie and Eddie holding hands as they followed him.</div>
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“No matter what your dad thinks, I’m still betting with you, babe.”</div>
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“I was going to bet a hundred to win on the three-horse,” she said. “Dad sounded pretty sure of himself. I’m putting the hundred on the six horse instead.”</div>
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“You think your dad has inside information?”</div>
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“Don’t be silly. He has excellent instincts when it comes to horse racing, though from the absolutely crazy story he told us, I’d say he has a bit of fiction writer in him.”</div>
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“Then I’m betting with you,” Eddie said.</div>
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There were fresh drinks waiting for them when they returned to their table. Frankie and Adele were standing outside on the balcony, preparing for the start of the next race. Eddie and Josie joined them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“Hope your prediction proves correct, Frankie. I put all my money on the six horse. If it doesn’t win, I’ll be living off my credit card for the rest of my vacation.”</div>
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“Hey, no guarantees,” Frankie said.</div>
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The starting bell rang as they watched the horses bound out of the gate. The three horse was almost too fast for Frankie’s scenario to occur. Almost. The four veered toward the rail, bumping into the three horse. The collision caused the three to impede the path of the one and the two. Taking advantage of the chaos, the six horse raced into the lead, holding it all the way through to the finish line. Josie and Eddie were going wild.</div>
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Eddie clutched Josie to him, twirling her twice before returning her feet to the balcony.</div>
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“Oh my God!” he said. “We won.”</div>
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The other spectators on the balcony weren’t so happy, most of them frowning as they wadded their tickets and tossed them into the trash. Eddie and Josie, smiling as they counted their money, were soon back at their table overlooking the track.</div>
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“How much did you win?” Adele asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; text-indent: 23.75pt;">
“Twenty-eight hundred and change,” Eddie said. “Gonna be a hot time in the old town tonight.”</div>
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“Yeah, yeah,” Frankie said. “You amateur betters are all the same. You’ll be penniless when you leave the track.”</div>
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“No more tips?”</div>
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Frankie crossed his arms. “You’re on your own, big boy. My horse is running in the next race. Hold the fort down up here. Josie, Adele and me are gonna watch from the owner’s box near the track.”</div>
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Eddie blew Josie a kiss as she, her dad and Adele disappeared down the escalator. He wasn’t alone for long.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">Born near Black Bayou in the little Louisiana town of Vivian, Eric Wilder grew up listening to his grandmother’s tales of politics, corruption, and ghosts that haunt the night. He now lives in Oklahoma where he continues to pen mysteries and short stories with a southern accent. He is the author of the French Quarter Mystery Series set in New Orleans and the Paranormal Cowboy Series. Please check it out on his </span><a href="http://viewauthor.at/EricWilder" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Amazon</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, </span><a href="http://bit.ly/1sr0Ndl" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">Barnes & Noble</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">, <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Eric%20Wilder&fcsearchfield=Author">Kobo</a> and </span><a href="http://bit.ly/Vd1UyG" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">iBook</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;"> author pages. You might also like to check out his </span><a href="http://www.ericwilder.com/" style="font-family: georgia, serif; text-indent: 0px;">website</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: small; text-indent: 0px;">.</span></div>
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