Martine pushed it back at her without looking inside. “Ms. Lucas, I can’t take this. Helpin’ guests is my job.”
“Well, you’ve more than helped me. You’ve saved me hours of time trying to find a gris-gris doctor. This can be our little secret. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Thank you, Ms. Lucas,” Martine said, taking the envelope and closing the door behind her as she left the room.
CHAPTER 13
The next afternoon, promptly at 4:00 p.m., Liz and Judy each ordered a beignet and a cup of coffee from the beautiful barista with the caramel colored complexion and then carried them out to a wrought iron table and chairs in the sun-filled courtyard of Café Due Monde.
“Judy, I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with Jean Baptiste,” Liz said nervously. “I better get him a cup of coffee and a beignet as well. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Just as she was returning to the table, an elderly grizzled black man with tightly coiled white hair peeping out from under the hat he wore walked up to her and said, “You Ms. Lucas?” he asked.
“Yes, you must be Jean Baptiste. I got a cup of coffee and a beignet for you. Please join us.” She nodded towards the table. “This is my friend, Judy Rasmussen.
“Well, thank you, ma’am. Don’t mind if I do,” he said, sitting across the table from them. Liz pushed the coffee and the beignet over to him along with some napkins the barista had given her.
“Martine tells me a friend of yours is dead and another gots a problem. Thinks maybe I can help. True?” the grizzled old man said, before picking up the beignet and taking a bite out of it.
“I don’t know if you can help, but yes, that’s true,” Liz said as she took the dolls and the paper out of her purse. “One was put on my friend’s doorstep a few days before she died. Another was put in her locker at a fitness center and this doll was next to her body when we found her. She was murdered.” She handed them to Jean Baptiste.
The old black man stopped chewing on his beignet and looked at them. He made a subtle movement, and even though the movement was quick, Liz would swear he had just crossed himself. From the expression on Judy’s face, Liz was certain she thought the same thing.
“Missy, dese are bad, really bad. Tell me everything you know ‘bout dese things.”
“I told you so. I knew it was dangerous. I pleaded with you not to get involved and now it’s too late,” the little voice said.
Liz told him everything from the moment the doll had fallen out of Nicole’s purse at the fitness center to when Martine had called him.
“I know it’s too late for my friend, Nicole, but can you help the man who found the gris-gris on his doorstep?”
“Yes, but since you be carryin’ dese things, gotta protect you too. The spirits tell me someone has cast a spell, and a woman was murdered. They also sayin’ that the gris-gris be ‘bout breaking up some love thing. He got a love thing goin’?”
“He did, but the woman who was murdered was the woman he was going to marry.”
“Well, looks to me like someone don’t want him to live either. Whoever done it must know somebody from ‘round here, ‘cuz looks to me like someone sure knows about voodoo, and this here’s where most of it is.”
“That could be. I simply don’t know. You said I had to be protected as well. How will you do that, and how can you protect him when you’ve never met him?”
“Gotta trust me. Spirits’ll tell me what to do. Stayin’ wid my son here. He a New Orleanian and gots an altar. Need one so’s I can make gris-gris bags for you and yer’ friend. Here.” He passed her an unused napkin that was tucked under his plate. “Use this napkin to wipe yer’ brow and these scissors to cut off a little piece of your fingernail. When ya’ finished with dat, pull a couple of pieces of hair outta’ yer’ scalp and give ‘em all to me.”
Liz and Judy stared at him in disbelief. Liz looked around to see if anyone was watching them, but the only eyes on hers were Jean Baptiste’s.
He leaned closer to her. “Ms. Lucas, no need to ask me why. Jes’ do it. Spirits know what they doin’.”
Unable to believe what she was doing, a few moments later Liz handed him her hair, the napkin, and the end of a fingernail.
“Now when you get back home, call yer’ friend and tell him to do the same,” Jean Baptiste instructed her, “only he gotta’ put it in the bag I’ll give ya’ fer him. Need to make yer’ gris-gris bags in front of an altar. Like I tol’ ya’, my son’s got one.”
“Can’t do it here cuz I need the four elements. He gots ‘em. Tomorrow my boy will bring you two bags. I’ll put four stones in each of them. Spirit will tell me which ones. Tell yer’ friend not to put anything else in the bag. Need seven things, no more, and you’ll be givin’ me the other three. Won’t work if it’s an even number. When I’m at the altar tonight, I’ll be casting a spell for each of ya’, a special gris-gris spell that’ll keep ya’ both safe. Here’s the thing though. Won’t keep ya’ safe forever. If another spell’s cast against either one of you, might overtake my good spell. Ya’ need to find out who be doin’ this and why. How much longer ya’ gonna be here?”
“We’re leaving in a couple of days,” Liz said. “Do you think that will be soon enough?”
“Miss, ya’ don’t know how powerful these bad spirits are. Whoever’s doin’ it to yer’ friend knows plenty. Sure was plenty enough to kill one person. Think if it was me, I’d be leavin’ tomorrow. I’ll have the gris-gris pouches brought to you early in the mornin’.”
Liz looked doubtful. “Do you really think it’s necessary that I leave before I finish the cooking school I’m attending here in New Orleans?”
“Lady, don’ know nuttin’ ‘bout some cookin’ school, but I sure knows ‘bout gris-gris. Ya’ stay here and cook, jes might be yer’ last meal. Yeah, go home. I’m gonna’ give you my phone number. Let me know what happens. Might be able to do a coupla’ more spells if need be.”
“Jean Baptiste, please excuse me, but I know nothing about you and now you’re telling me I need to change all of my plans. I guess I need to know a little more about you.”
The old man chuckled. “Sure, Ms. Liz. Don’t know of nobody in my family that weren’t involved in voodoo. I learned it at the knee of my granny. She ‘tol me once that our family was meant to help people and voodoo is our way. I got quite a reputation in Louisiana, and I even baptize people in the faith. We call it the ‘lave tete’. All the people bein’ baptized in the voodoo faith, that’s what we call it, wear white. They bring offerins’ to honor Marie Leveau. You mighta’ heard of her. High Priestess of Voodoo.”
Liz nodded, fascinated. But what followed caused her heart to quicken. “Darnedest offering I ever saw for the ceremony was when one of the women I was baptizin’ changed her name to Marie Leveau. Poor thing wanted to be like Marie, but she’s just a wannabe. Has a practice not far from where I practice, but it’s just so-so. ‘Tween us, don’t think she’s ever been able to make anything happen with what she calls her magic, but some people go to her. Takes all kinds.
“So yeah, Ms. Liz, been doin’ this all my life, and I promise that my magic is strong. Ask around and a lot of people will tell you it’s the strongest. Hate to say it, but I’m pretty well-known in these parts. Get called down here to New Orleans a lot to help people. Get asked all the time to move down here, but I like it up in Natchitoches Parish. Know it’s poor, but I think poor people need my magic more than rich ones. They gotta’ believe in somethin’, cuz they sure ain’t got no money.” He stood up and tipped his straw hat. “Nice meetin’ ya.”
“Wait, I haven’t paid you. How much do I owe you?” Liz asked, reaching inside her purse.
“Nuttin’. Sometimes the spirits tell me not to take money. This be one of them times. Good luck.”
When he was out of hearing distance, Judy leaned across the table to Liz. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking? That the woman he was talking about was Nicole’s sister? I mean wouldn’t that be a s
mall world?”
Liz stared back at Judy. “I think this whole voodoo world is small, and I’d bet it was her. If it was, that pretty much eliminates her as a suspect, because her magic wouldn’t be strong enough to murder someone. Plus, it sounds like she’s really immersed in the voodoo community, and I just don’t see her murdering her sister because she’s lost weight. Doesn’t pass the smell test.”
“What is the smell test?” Judy asked, wrinkling her nose.
“I read the term in some book. It just means something doesn’t ring true. Kind of like it doesn’t smell good, you probably shouldn’t eat it or cook it.”
Judy said, “You’ve got a point there. What I’m really struggling with is the museum guy saying he recognized Maddie. If for some unknown reason she was the one who was in his museum shop, and I can’t come up with any logical reason why it would be her, that means Cody could be in danger.”
“I couldn’t agree more. When we get back to the mansion, I’m going to give him a call. He may think I’m crazy, but I’d rather him think that than find out he’d been murdered and I didn’t make the call.”
“Judy, are you up for leaving tomorrow?” Liz’s heart was still pounding, as she tried to shake the voice from her head. “I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around this. I mean, this upends everything we’ve planned. And I have no idea how I’m going to explain to Roger I’m coming home early because a gris-gris priest told me to.”
“You better take his advice and go home. I’d bet the reason Jean Baptiste wouldn’t take your money is because you’re tainted by this, the voice said, and he doesn’t want anything from you until he casts his spells and does his woo-woo magic. Told you not to get involved. Now people won’t even take your money, and that’s a first.”
CHAPTER 14
Liz and Judy returned to the Desiree Richarde mansion and immediately walked over to the door that had the sign, “Office” on it.
“Come in,” the heavily accented Southern voice said. The woman, Celia Brisson, who had given the instructions and itinerary for the cooking school the first night was seated at an inlaid French partners’ desk. Liz remembered seeing one in a home decorating magazine years ago and had been captivated by it. A woman’s face was painted on an oval ceramic piece set into the top border of the desk.
Liz could only imagine what something like that would cost if it were for sale. From what she’d seen the last two days, every piece of furniture and every painting in the mansion was from the time the house had originally been built, in the mid-19th century, although she knew the house had been thoroughly renovated several times to upgrade the plumbing and electrical. Even the guest rooms had Wi-Fi.
“Hello, I’m Liz Lucas, and this is Judy Rasmussen. We’re going to have to leave unexpectedly tomorrow morning. We don’t expect a refund. We just wanted you to know that we’ve been more than pleased with the accommodations and the school. It’s been wonderful, and I’m sure both of us will be preparing the dishes we’ve learned how to make here. You see, we each own a spa-hotel in California and serve breakfast and dinner to our guests.”
“What an interesting concept,” Celia said, straightening her glasses. “Do you do themed dinners?”
“No, but I’m sure we could start with some of the Cajun and Creole dishes we’ve prepared here.”
“Well, my home’s here in New Orleans, but this cookin’ school’s owned by the organization I work for. Celia handed Liz a brochure. “We have schools all over the world and cook in incredible homes that have state of the art kitchens. The people who own the homes are only inconvenienced two or three times a year, and they’re well-compensated for the inconvenience.
“Many of our students have been to several of our schools. If you enjoyed this one, you’d probably like the others. I’m partial to one we hold at a beautiful vineyard estate in Tuscany, as well as the one in Singapore. It’s part of an incredible compound. I hope you’ll think about attending one or more of them. Here’s my card as well, and if you have any questions, please feel free to give me a call.”
“Thank you. Should we make arrangements for a taxi or will it be easy to get one tomorrow morning?”
Celia smiled. “Darlin’, you’re in the French Quarter. You can’t take two steps without seein’ a taxi. Won’t be a problem, trust me.”
“Thanks. We need to go up to our room and make our plane reservations. Thanks for your hospitality and good-bye.”
“Bye, darlin’. Y’all come back, hear?”
They made their airline reservation for mid-morning, and Judy predictably opted for first class. Jean Baptiste had told Liz it was very important for Cody to get the items his son was bringing to her tomorrow as soon as she possibly could. She called Cody to tell him about the latest developments and see if he could come by the lodge the next evening.
He answered the phone on the first ring. “Liz, I’m so glad you called. When I left for work this morning, there was a cross on my sidewalk made of damp salt. I’ve never seen anything like it. I swept it into the grass, then ran the hose on it. I’m afraid that much salt will kill the grass.”
Liz heard the little voice yelling that crosses of salt mean there’s danger for whoever lives there. I’m glad you’re not going to his house. Be sure he comes to yours.
“Cody, I’ve decided to come home early, and I’d like to see you as soon as possible. I own the Red Cedar Lodge and Spa. Could you come there tomorrow evening after work?”
“Sure. I’ve been by it several times, so I know where it is. What did you find out? This is getting scarier and scarier. I thought Nicole being murdered was the worst, but now I’m afraid I’ll be next.”
Liz didn’t want to let him know she shared his fears for his safety. “Cody, just hang in there. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow night. I met with a man who’s going to help you. I know this is going to sound really strange, but I need you to get a paper towel or napkin and wipe your brow with it when you’re perspiring. Go out in the sun if you have to. I also need you to cut off a piece of your fingernail and pull a couple of strands of hair out of your scalp. Bring those three things with you when we meet tomorrow.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “Liz, are you sure I’m going to be okay?”
“Yes, as sure as any of us can be about anything. I have to go. It’s time for dinner. See you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 15
Roger answered his phone on the first ring. “Well, that makes me feel good. I know my name must have popped up on your screen, and if you’re answering the phone on the first ring, you must miss me and want to talk to me,” Liz said, laughing. She realized it was the first time she’d laughed all day.
“I’m so glad you called. It’s lonesome without you. How’s the food in New Orleans? Are you and Judy enjoying yourselves?”
“Very much. I think I’ve already gained ten pounds. It’s been a wonderful experience. Can’t wait to fix some of the dishes for you that we learned to make in the cooking school.”
“Liz, it’s too bad you’re there, because I got a call from your son, Jonah, this morning. He called the house and got the answering machine and then he called your cell phone. Evidently you had it turned off. He’s coming into town for one night only, tomorrow night. I told him I’d take him out for dinner, and that I was looking forward to seeing him. He’s renting a car, so we decided to meet at the lodge. Too bad you won’t be here. He’ll be gone by the time you get back.”
“Uh, Roger, that’s why I’m calling. Judy and I are flying home tomorrow morning. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. I saw that Jonah had called, but I haven’t had a chance to get back to him. That’s great. We can go to that steak place he likes. It’s one of Jonah’s favorites. A man by the name of Cody Evans will be coming over, probably just before you and Jonah arrive. He was Nicole’s, that woman I told you about, fiancé. I’ll fill you in on all the details when I get home.”
Roger let out an exasperated
sigh. “Liz, what have you gotten yourself into? Why do I have a sense I’m not getting the whole story here? And why do you have to see this Cody guy as soon as you return? What’s going on? Are you and Judy in some sort of danger?”
“No, Judy and I are fine. It’s a long story, and it’s getting a bit complicated. Let’s just say I’m learning a lot about voodoo, and I think there’s a good chance it was very much involved in the death of Nicole Rogers. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow night. I’d tell you now, but I don’t want to miss my last dinner here. See you tomorrow.”
*****
Knowing this would be her last Cajun-Creole meal in New Orleans, Liz decided she’d taste everything, so she could recreate some of the dishes when she got back home. She hadn’t been at all disappointed in the school. Each student had been given a recipe for everything that was served during their stay, and she knew she’d be referring to them a lot.
The inviting fire in the fireplace warmed the large living room where the appetizers and wine were being served. The afternoon outing had been a tour of nearby plantations which the guests were raving about. Liz was sorry she’d missed it, and she could tell Judy was too. She took a glass of the offered wine and tried the herb and cornbread cakes that were served with a remoulade sauce. That’s one recipe I’ll definitely have to try. My guests would love these, she thought.
“Can’t wait to go to that Voodoo Museum tomorrow,” the soft southern voice said from where she was sitting at the end of the couch. Liz turned around in her seat so she could talk to the woman.
“I went there this afternoon,” Liz said, “and it was fascinating. I learned a lot. I understand voodoo is still practiced here.”
“Sure is. I live about four hours from here, and I can tell you that voodoo is very much alive and well in most areas of Louisiana, especially here in New Orleans. It’s not even a belief; it’s just a part of our life. We use spells for everything, good and bad. We learn early on the things to avoid and how to protect ourselves from them. Of course, we all know the one thing you can’t protect yourself from is a dead black cat being in your path.”
Murdered by Superstition Page 7
