Nat stood in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest. She looked distinctly unimpressed. “Come on,” she kept saying. “How hard is it to choose between a bunch of candles or a handful of crystals?” Roxy looked up and saw pulses of anxiety play across Nat’s face. She looked disturbed by the energy of the store though she did clutch a packet of incense sticks.
Sage smiled, her eyes appearing only half-focused. “I’ve ventured outside the realm of time so that I may deeply pleasure my soul.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Evangeline will buy that when I tell her why I’m late,” Nat grumbled.
Roxy had no idea what to buy. She turned another corner and came upon a whole new assortment of seemingly random objects—a huge collection of silk flowers, bottle after bottle of Florida Water, silver goblets filled with shiny black stones, and a line of human skulls which looked much too real for Roxy’s liking. She took the time to remind herself that, of course, they weren’t real. They couldn’t possibly be. But still…
She could have stayed to explore the store all day until she came upon the skulls. They sent a jolting shiver up her spine, and she went to join Nat at the entrance. By now, Nat was mumbling “weirdos” and “absolute rubbish” under her breath. Feeling a little intimidated by this rather brittle, young English woman, Roxy pretended to study a rack of herbs while they waited for Sage to finish up.
On the way back to the guesthouse, Sage and Nat had a good-natured—but still heated—argument. Nat started it.
“So Sage, what miracle in a bag did you buy this time?”
“Candles for my archangel altar,” Sage said, ignoring Nat’s sarcasm.
“And what’s that when it’s at home?” Nat asked with a snort.
Roxy, too, was a little curious and equally skeptical, but she would never have been so outwardly scornful.
“An archangel altar is a portal to facilitate contact with certain benevolent spirits from the unseen world,” Sage said serenely.
“Oh brother,” Nat said, rolling her eyes.
“No one’s asking you to believe in it, honey,” Sage said smoothly. “It’s not your fault. Society has conditioned us to not believe anything beyond the bounds of modern science. And that’s okay.”
Nat shrugged. “Meh. I didn’t like science at school either. I like things I can see and touch, and you can’t see atoms, can you? Well, they can with their super-super-super-microscope thingies, but not with ‘the naked eye.’ No, I like to think about what I can see right in front of me. Like now, we have to get back to Evangeline’s because I have to make lunch, and if I don’t, she’s going to go crazy on me. That’s what I believe in.”
Sage sighed. “Well, everyone’s different.”
Nat looked her up and down, “And thank goddess for that!”
Roxy hated the mounting tension, but then Nat and Sage burst out laughing, and Nat threw her arm around Sage’s shoulders. “I do love you, you crazy witch lady.”
Sage chuckled. “And I love you, too, you…you…thug!”
They all laughed at that.
“Oh, look, is that Sam?” Roxy said, pointing a little way down a side street on the other side of the road. His flashy car was parked on the sidewalk. Sam was wearing reflective sunglasses and looked pretty flashy himself. He was speaking with a couple of guys who looked a little shady. They saw Sam count out a wad of bills and hand them to one of the men. Roxy frowned. “What is he doing?”
Nat shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows? He’s very private about what he does outside of the guesthouse and laundry.”
Roxy continued to look over as they passed and wondered what he could be doing. The transaction didn’t look very savory.
When they reached the narrow cobbled street that housed Evangeline’s guesthouse and Elijah’s wonderful bakery, they spotted a woman wearing a navy pencil skirt and jacket up ahead of them. It was hard not to spot her because just then she caught the heel of her bright red stiletto in the cobblestones and went flying forward. She collapsed onto one of Elijah’s tables and stayed there prostrate over it for a few seconds until she peered around to see who might have seen her ungainly fall. Carefully, she straightened up, tugged on her pencil skirt, and wriggled it back into place. She smoothed down her thick, shoulder-length blonde hair, flicking what might have been crumbs off her jacket.
As Roxy, Sage, and Nat got closer, they could see the woman was furious. A deep frown creased her forehead, and she blew air from her nose like an angry bull. Tears shone in her eyes, too, and when she noticed them, she flushed a deep shade of pink. “Oh…,” she said. Roxy felt a little sorry for her.
“Hi there,” Nat said, uncharacteristically smiley. “Have you come to stay at Evangeline’s?”
“Evange—? That!” the woman replied. She spun around, looking up at Roxy’s rickety balcony in disgust. Roxy began to feel distinctly less sorry for her. “Of course not. I’m looking for Richard Lomas. Have you seen him?” Her eyes like lasers drilled into the three of them, and her lips, bearing remnants of red lipstick that matched her shoes, curled into a snarl.
Nat crumpled her brow.
“The name sounds familiar,” Sage said. “Um…”
“Tall guy,” the woman said, flicking up her chin. “Snappy suit. Property developer. Attitude to match.”
“Oh!” everyone said, even Roxy.
“Yes, we know him.” Nat crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you one of them? The demon developers?”
“No,” the woman practically spat. “My name is Mara Lomas. He’s my husband. How do you know him?”
“He’s been trying to persuade Evangeline to sell her building to him. So he can tear it down,” Nat said, “but it’s not for sale.”
Roxy wasn’t at all sure Nat should be sharing this kind of information with a stranger on the street, but before she could say anything, Mara started snarling again.
“Well, if you see the slippery snake, tell him I’m in town, I know exactly what he’s done, I know all about his cozy little double life and his mistress.” She laughed bitterly. “And tell him, he’d better say goodbye to his beloved Aston Martin, too, because that’s the first thing I’m going to make my lawyers take from him.” She looked the three of them up and down. No one knew quite what to say. She nodded her head fractionally upward. “Just tell him I’m looking for him, okay?”
Nat shrugged. “Okay.”
“Good.” Mara began to stride away purposefully, but her exit wasn’t quite as dramatic and impressive as it could have been. She had to quickly change her stride to a totter as she picked her way carefully over the cobblestones in her three-inch heels.
“I hope for blessings on your soul,” Sage called out after her. She looked genuinely concerned.
Mara waved dismissively. “Pray for his soul,” she called back. “He’s going to need all the protection he can get!” Her voice reverberated around the small side street; then she turned the corner and was gone.
CHAPTER TEN
“WHOA,” WHISPERED ROXY admiringly. She wished she had been a little more Mara-esque toward her ex. Some threats and stiletto strutting might have been quite empowering, but at least she hadn’t sobbed down the phone or had some other humiliating reaction. She had retained her self-respect.
Roxy’s shoulders slumped when she thought of her ex-boyfriend. Without any idea of who his new girlfriend was or what she looked like, Roxy tortured herself with images of a tall, picture-perfect bronzed beauty with a gorgeous curvy body and thick, flowing, long hair. She’d be a brunette, of course, Roxy was sure. Ryan had loved to remind Roxy that he preferred dark-haired women. Dark-haired, long-haired women. As she considered this, she wondered whether she had been with someone who was deliberately cruel, who determinedly sought to undermine her, who wanted her to feel bad about herself? A frown creased the bridge of her nose.
“Are you all right?” Sage said. The African-American woman peered at her with concern.
“Oh, yes, yes, I’m fine.” Roxy woke
up from her daydream and shook her head. “Yes, fine. Um, I must go. I’d better feed Nefertiti.”
“You can let her roam around, you know,” Nat said. “We just have to make sure the front door is closed for a bit so she doesn’t go outside and get lost. To make sure, Evangeline will put butter on her paws for a couple of days. Then she’ll never stray far.”
Roxy smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Aha!” a voice from behind them called out.
They turned to see Elijah coming from his bakery, holding his signature white boxes. “You’ve got a beignet monster staying with you, huh?” he said. “Evangeline’s alone would keep my bakery going at the moment. Is it you, Roxy?” He narrowed his eyes as he pointed a finger and wagged it accusingly.
“Look at how skinny she is,” Nat said, laughing. “She’s not scarfing down thousands of those things now, is she?”
Elijah gestured down at his own impossibly wiry body.
“Not everyone has the metabolism of a stick insect,” Nat said.
He gave her a fake frown and wiggled his finger again. “You’ll never get a job anywhere else, Miss, talking to people like that. I hope you’re kissing Evangeline’s shoes.”
Nat laughed again, but a little less heartily this time. She punched him in the arm.
“Anyhow,” he said, “who’s coming to see the Krewe du Vieux with me tonight? Their parade is in the French Quarter. I was thinking of heading there then maybe taking a cruise down the river.”
“Wow!” Roxy said, her eyes lighting up. “I’ll come!” She paused. “What’s the Krewe du Vieux?” she added.
“It’s a Mardi Gras parade known for its wild, adult themes. They usually include political comedy, and they have some of the best brass and traditional jazz bands in New Orleans,” Elijah said.
“Sounds great!” Roxy replied.
“If we’re feeling brave enough we’ll hit their after-party, too. It’s called the Krewe du Vieux Doo. Try saying that fast,” he added.
“Krewe du Vieux Doo, Krewe du Vieux Doo, Krewe du Vieux Doo, Krewe du Vieux Doo, Krewe du Vieux Doo, Krewe du Vieux Doo,” Nat said.
“Okay, okay,” Elijah retorted, flapping his free hand to calm her down. “I didn’t mean for you to take me literally.”
“Krewe du Vieux Doo,” Sage said, elongating the vowels in the words, and shaking her head. “They should respect the vast spiritual heritage of Voodoo more carefully if you ask me. They’re making a mockery of it. You know, it’s a tradition thousands of years old from Central and West Africa.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Nat said. “But they just want to have fun! Relax a bit, Sage. You can’t take everything seriously. Elijah, I’ll be there. With Roxy and Sage.”
“Sounds more and more like a party every moment,” Elijah said with a grin. “I like it. Sam’s coming, too.”
“That means Louise will be there with her eyelashes,” said Nat. “Oh, bless her little heart.”
That evening, they all met in the lobby and walked down to the French Quarter together. Sage was in her trademark flowing robes, a pale lilac this time. The color matched the tones in her hair. Nat also wore what was proving to be her uniform—black jeans and a scary-looking band t-shirt. A big pink tongue splayed out from a skull and crossbones that was emblazoned across the front of her top. In contrast, Louise wore a figure-hugging baby blue dress and stood too close to Sam, who kept edging away. He was more conventional in jeans and a button-down shirt. To Roxy’s eye, and probably Louise’s, he looked more handsome than ever. Roxy had kept things simple with a long patterned rust-colored skirt and a cream peasant top, but Elijah wore a bright purple suit with a pair of shiny black crocodile shoes.
Evangeline stood at the doorway, Nefertiti in her arms. The guesthouse owner had indeed given the cat butter that afternoon, and Nefertiti had appreciated the treat enormously. The elderly woman watched the younger people with tears welling up in her eyes. “This is the last time you’ll do this, leave from here to go to the parade. It’s the end of an era,” she said. She snuggled her head against Nefertiti’s.
“You’ve decided to sell?” Sage asked.
Evangeline nodded. “I’ve called that developer. It’s all over. This place will be just rubble by the end of the summer.” Her voice caught in her throat. “So y’all go on. Jump up in the carnival for me, and send old Evangeline’s out with the best of memories, won’t you?”
“Of course we will,” Louise said. She wrapped Evangeline in a hug.
They walked to the French Quarter a little subdued, but Elijah kept telling everyone jokes and striding forward cheerfully. He made everyone feel a little better. Everyone, that is, except Nat. She kept looking up and around at all the buildings and didn’t join in with any of the conversations.
Roxy watched Nat for a while, wondering what was causing her to be so nervous and if she knew Nat well enough to ask her if she was all right. After a few minutes’ observation, Roxy decided against it. She didn’t want to get her head bitten off for reaching out, and experience had taught her that might well happen. Instead, she fell into step beside Nat and they walked side by side in silence.
New Orleans looked truly beautiful as they walked through it. There were string lights dotted around the tops of buildings and hanging over roadways. They were like little fairies who had decided to bless the city with their magic. It was warm for the time of year, too.
“Lovely, isn’t it, this place?” Roxy said to Nat.
“Not really,” Nat replied. “I’ve seen better.” She sounded nonchalant and dismissive, but her voice cracked.
Silence fell once more. They walked on for a while, falling behind the others. “So how did you end up here?” Roxy tried again.
“No particular reason.”
“But you must have come here for something. You don’t end up in New Orleans by accident.” Roxy was surprising herself. She wasn’t usually so forward.
“It’s a long story,” Nat said, staring resolutely ahead. She quickened her pace and walked away as Roxy wondered what that long story might be.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
APART FROM WHAT Elijah had told her, Roxy had no idea what to expect from the Krewe du Vieux parade, but she was very excited and curious to see it. They had gotten there early, and yet the streets were already lined with people waiting for the parade to start. The atmosphere on the street was buzzing as the group settled down at a table outside a fancy-looking restaurant where the tables were covered in linens and a replica oil lamp sat on every one. The air was getting a little colder. The sun had set and the cool wind rushed over the darkened Mississippi River.
“Café Brûlots all round to warm us up?” Elijah asked.
“Oh, yes!” everyone except Roxy said. She had no idea what a Café Brûlot was.
Sam sat down beside her. “You’re in for a real treat,” he said. “Café Brûlots are spiced liqueur coffees that they flame up right in front of you, watch.”
Roxy looked at him warily. He seemed like such a good, generous person, but she wondered whether he was completely honest. There was that business with giving money to men on the side street and the flashy car. How did he afford such a thing? Was she just being paranoid? Oh, why was life so confusing?
A waiter in a jacket and bow tie came up to the table rolling a cart with a bowl set on top. He straightened and poured some liquor into a ladle.
“That’s cognac and Curaçao. The spices are already in the bowl,” Sam said in his lovely low voice. Roxy could feel the heat of his body next to her, and she struggled to keep her heart from racing. After all, he was very, very handsome. And Louise was right. He emanated stability and capability. He seemed like a guy who would step in and save the day if necessary, whatever it took. Safe. Solid. A protector. Still, she couldn’t put her worries to rest.
The waiter set the alcohol on fire, and blue flames leaped up in a chaotic fiery dance. He ladled the flaming liquid over an orange that had been mostly peeled, its skin trailing do
wnward in a spiral into the bowl. More blue flames jumped up, but the waiter doused them with a brown liquid.
“And there’s the coffee going in!” Louise said. She giggled girlishly and brushed her hand against Sam’s.
He jerked his away with a laugh. “Indeed, and now for the sugar.” He got up and went to stand next to Elijah.
The waiter poured sugar into the bowl and ladled the spiced coffee, cognac and Curaçao mixture into small coffee glasses. He finished by adding a dollop of whipped cream. “Voilà!”
The table burst into applause.
“Bravo, bravo!” Elijah said, and he gathered up the coffee cups as best he could, carrying three between his fingers.
Sam scooped up the other three coffees, and soon they were all sipping and sighing with delight. Roxy savored hers, drinking it ever so slowly. The brandy and coffee and cream together were warming, but the hints of orange and spice and cinnamon took the drink to a whole new level of “ahhhh.”
“Like drinking a hug,” Nat said.
Roxy smiled. “It is kind of like that!” She winced a little at the strength of the brandy, though. “They don’t scrimp on the alcohol, do they?”
Sam laughed. “They certainly don’t.”
Just then, police sirens started to blare, and blue lights flashed among the crowd.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Roxy said, getting up and looking around. She was a little jumpy at the best of times—the result of growing up with a mother who could be unpredictable. Sirens made her edgy.
“They’re clearing the road for the parade!” Sage said, clapping her hands. “Let’s go stand a little nearer and get a good look!”
Roxy Reinhardt Mysteries Box Set Page 5
