C is for Crow: The A B C's of Witchery (Moonbeam Chronicles Book 3)

by Carolina Mac

  “Jeeze, don’t look, Gilly,” growled Pete. He nudged his furry body against me trying to push me back. “It’s too gross for you to see.”

  “I’ve seen some gross stuff, Pete.” I stretched my neck to see over Charlotte and Diana in front of me. The two of them were hovering over Rufin who was down on his knees weeping over the mangled body of his dead mother.

  Loud cawing came from outside the barn, then Banjo swooped in through the doors and perched on top of the circus wagon.

  Caw. Caw. Caw.

  Rufin glanced up with red-rimmed eyes and acknowledged his buddy, the crow. “She’s dead, Banjo. Mama is dead.”

  A pitiful peeping sound came from the crow and I felt sorry for it. How could I feel worse for the crow than I did for Rufin? Don’t know but I did.

  Ardal and I went outside to smoke and left the others inside mourning the death of Antoinette Pictou. “I wonder where the murdering wizard went?”

  “I’m not familiar with Louisiana,” said Ardal. “No clue.”

  “Murder is something I’m familiar with. Murder is a cop thing more than a witch thing.”

  “Are we going to help find the wizard?”

  I shrugged. “I’d like to leave for home, but Misty may want us to help her.”

  Ardal smiled a funny little smile.

  “What?”

  “I kind of like Diana,” he whispered. “She’s nice.”

  “Hey, sport. Don’t you get all messed up on me.”

  “No worries. I’ll never get messed up by a girl. Last thing I’d ever do. My life is too fuckin busy.”

  Busy doing what?

  Misty and the girls came out of the barn and Misty was the only one not weeping. “Virgile is hiding in the bayou,” said Misty. “I got that impression from a couple of items in his wagon and Diana confirmed it with the horses. The big Clydesdales are stressed Gallant left them behind.”

  Ardal raised an eyebrow. “Diana can talk to horses?”

  Diana wiped her eyes and smiled at Ardal. “It’s the power I received last year at Beltane. I can talk to animals and understand what they’re saying. I’m truly blessed to have that as my calling.”

  “That’s so cool,” said Ardal. “I work with horses at home on the ranch. I wish they would talk to me.”

  “As soon as we arrange for someone to feed and care for the horses, we’ll go after Virgile Gallant,” said Misty. “I’ve made a few calls to the local authorities.”

  “You sound like you know where he is,” I said.

  “Not exactly, but in the general area near Shiner’s Crab Shack. A few miles from there, there is a colony of witches and wizards. Some permanent residents and a lot of visitors who are evil and wanted by the law. The couple who own the property—a witch and wizard—charge the outlaws to give them sanctuary, food and shelter.”

  Ardal rolled his eyes.

  “Are we leaving from here?” I asked.

  “We need to drive back to the city and prepare,” said Misty. “We may need to pack enough for a couple of days away from civilization.”

  “Doesn’t sound like we’re going home today,” whispered Ardal. “We’re driving back to New Orleans and getting ready for another side trip.”

  He didn’t sound happy about another delay and I didn’t blame him. I longed to go home to Texas too.

  Nine Saint Gillian Street. New Orleans.

  A devastated Rufin stayed in Chalmette with his mother’s body and dealt with the police and the medical examiner. In the meantime, we drove back to Misty’s house in New Orleans to gather up our gear for a trip to the bayou.

  Would the bereaved Rufin be joining us later in the swamp? I wasn’t privy to that information and in my new non-Ruf mode, I shouldn’t give it a thought.

  Leaving Pete in Misty’s backyard, Ardal and I headed inside to pack up. Misty and Moonbeam were inside already making sandwiches and packing coolers for our excursion into the bayou.

  Passing through the sunroom, Ardal whispered to me, “Gilly, I don’t want to go on this trip. Misty is talking about witch and wizard outlaws. It feels dangerous and I’m not in the mood for more gators and snakes.”

  Misty turned to us as we came into the kitchen. “Rufin won’t be coming with us. Later today after he’s been to police headquarters and to the morgue, he’ll be coming home. He intends to wait at his house until his mother’s body is released from the morgue, and while he waits he’ll be calling family members and planning Antoinette’s funeral.

  I’m glad he’s not coming.

  “Moonbeam knows a lot about swamp life,” I said. “She grew up in the Everglades.”

  “Will there be pythons where we’re going?” asked Ardal.

  Misty shook her head. “No pythons, but there are a lot of snakes. Only two or three varieties are poisonous.”

  “Why did Rufin’s mother have all those bottles of poison on her work table?” I asked.

  “She was a gifted sorceress,” said Misty. “She made not only poison, but many different potions. She sold them to other witches who weren’t as talented.”

  “I saw you put a couple of bottles in your purse. Will that help us find the wizard who killed her?”

  “I’m hopeful it will,” said Misty.

  I wasn’t sure if Misty was being truthful, although I had never known her to tell a fib. She had an odd look on her face when she talked about the poison.

  After dinner, Misty retreated to the front parlor and consulted the Tarot about our trip to the bayou. I hadn’t been instructed in Tarot yet, so I said goodnight and headed upstairs to take a hot bath and wallow in my own personal misery.

  Ardal had a premonition of horrors we’d be facing in the bayou and he wasn’t letting up on his negativity. He didn’t want to go. Trying to reassure him did no good at all. I tried something else.

  “Diana might be coming with us. That would sweeten the trip for you, wouldn’t it?”

  He smiled. “Maybe. If she was going, it would be a lot more fun. I might want to go.”

  “Let’s think of it as a fun, romantic little daytrip.”

  “Don’t try to snow me, Gilly. I’m a realist. I see things as they really are, and this trip will be the high shits.”

  You could be right.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Wednesday, November 4th.

  Nine Saint Gillian Street. New Orleans.

  Misty sat at the head of the ten foot worktable finishing her cup of herbal tea and drawing a little map. “I think we’ll come in from Thibodaux way and go straight to Shiners. It will be faster and more direct than going down to Houma first. I’ll have Bobo meet us at the dock in Thibodaux with his boat.”

  “How far is Thibodaux from here?” asked Ardal.

  “About an hour,” said Misty. “We have lots of time to get where we’re going before nightfall.”

  “Should I start loading the truck?” Ardal moved towards the coolers.

  “Sure, sugar,” I said. “Our stuff is sitting in the back hallway.”

  Ardal hefted the cooler with the red lid and Misty’s cell rang.

  “Hi, Charlotte. We’re loading up right now. Uh huh. Okay. We’ll wait for her.” Misty looked up and said, “Charlotte can’t get time off work to go with us, so she’ll stay behind and try to help Rufin with the funeral arrangements. She’s dropping Diana off in five minutes.”

  Calling bullshit on that one. She wants Rufin and she can have him. You’re welcome to him, Miss blue hair.

  Ardal’s dark eyes sparkled at the mention of Diana’s name. “I’ll finish loading the truck.”

  “Now that Charlotte isn’t going, can we all fit in your truck, Gillette?” asked Misty.

  “Sure, we can fit.” I said it not knowing or caring if it was true or not. Nothing mattered to me anymore. Indifference had cleared my mind and left it free.

  The truck was loaded and the house was secure. We were piling into the Jeep when Diana jumped out of Charlotte’s blue Honda and came running down the
lane with her little suitcase in her hand.

  She peered into the back seat, already crowded with Ardal, Moonbeam and Pete on the floor at Moon’s feet. “Can we all fit? Pete is a big dog.”

  “You might have to cuddle up against Ardal,” I said, making him squirm. They all shifted over and made room for Diana. Luckily she was a small girl.

  I programmed Thibodaux into the GPS and we were on our way to kill the evil wizard.

  I felt like singing the song but controlled the urge. I lacked control in numerous areas. I vowed to do better.

  Thibodaux. Louisiana.

  “This town is bigger than I thought it would be,” I said as I drove down a street lined with stores.

  “There’s a motel close to the dock too if we need somewhere to sleep,” said Misty. “I’ve stayed there before and it’s clean. The owner is a nice woman.”

  “Are we checking in now?” I asked.

  “Umm…maybe later,” said Misty. “We may not need a room if things go well.”

  We will need a room.

  A glance in the rearview and I saw Ardal roll his eyes. Things hadn’t gone well for him for several days and his optimism was at a low level.

  Misty pointed. “Turn here. This is the street that goes to Bayou Lafourche. Bobo should be waiting for us at the wharf with his big boat.”

  “Do we have to go by boat to the witch and wizard hangout?” Ardal sounded nervous as he asked his question.

  “Uh huh. There is no way in by land, I’m afraid. By boat is the only way to get there. But don’t worry, Ardal, Bobo is experienced at finding his way through the bayou. We won’t get lost. Not a chance.”

  “Does the place we’re going have a name?” I asked.

  Misty giggled. “Not an official name, but the local folks call it Canal de la Mort.”

  “Canal of death?” Diana raised an eyebrow. “Sounds ominous.”

  “Sure does.” I checked the rearview for Ardal’s reaction. “Do you think the locals may have exaggerated a little?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” said Misty.

  I parked my truck in the designated lot at the edge of the tiny marina and hoped it would be safe until we got back. I loved my truck and hated leaving her behind.

  Ardal cast a backwards glance too as we carried our stuff along the pier to the spot where Misty was hugging a big Cajun guy with huge bushy black hair.

  When we caught up to her, she introduced him as her friend. “This is Bobo Beliveau.”

  There was another guy in the boat that I didn’t notice at first. His skin was dark—Cajun, but with kind of a charcoal look to him and the ends of his short black hair looked like they had been singed.

  Misty pointed at the older guy and said, “This is Rudy.”

  Diana seemed to know them already. Bobo gave her a hand into the boat and she shoved her little bag under her seat.

  “Bobo, would you help Ardal get the coolers from the truck, sugar?”

  Bobo flashed a brilliant set of white teeth. “Sure, Great One. Bobo happy to help.”

  It didn’t take long to load the stuff we brought into the boat. While the boys took several trips to the truck and the loading was going on, Moonbeam struck up a conversation with Rudy and they seemed to be hitting it off. There was something about him that wasn’t ringing true, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  My innate ability to see dead people wasn’t needed, but there was something about Rudy—perhaps he’d had a near death experience and I was sensing that.

  As we settled into Bobo’s boat, Ardal seemed nervous. I reached out for his hand and held it tight. “What are you afraid of?”

  “Besides the gators and snakes in the water?” Ardal’s dark eyes were wide.

  “Don’t fall out of the boat and you’ll be safe enough.” I winked at him and he didn’t crack a smile.

  “Safe enough until we get to the death channel, and then what, Gilly?”

  “Then, I’ll shoot anybody who comes within three feet of you. I promise.”

  “I don’t want to be here, Gilly. I’m ready to go home and brush my horse. That’s as much excitement as I’m up for.”

  “Don’t be afraid of the reptiles,” said Diana. “They are every bit as scared as you are. If we meet any face to face, I’ll talk to them and you’ll see how nice they can be.”

  Ardal chuckled and that was an improvement. I was happy he seemed to like Diana.

  “Nice? You’re messing with me, right?”

  She shook her head and giggled. “I met a couple of gators who were more than happy to help me. One of them let me ride on his back across the river.”

  “Jeeze,” hollered Ardal. “No way I’m doing that. No gator riding for this cowboy.”

  Diana had him laughing and I was grateful.

  Shiners Crab Shack. Bayou Lafourche.

  We’d been cruising along on the river for about an hour looking at nothing but cypress trees and murky water and gators sunning themselves on the riverbanks.

  Ardal had begun to relax a little talking to Diana and he hadn’t whined anymore about going home to Texas. I wanted to get home just as badly as he did—for entirely different reasons—but we were both stuck here helping Misty, and we couldn’t leave until the problem had been dealt with.

  Moonbeam seemed enthralled with the Rudy guy and I was the only one staring blankly at the flora and very little fauna so far—only gators and a few frogs. As long as the gators weren’t up close and in my face, I was okay with them sleeping in the sun and minding their business. To each his own.

  Every time we passed a spot crowded with sleeping gator families, Pete growled. Sonny was making the dog growl because he hated gators and for a good reason.

  Bobo slowed the engine down as we approached Shiners and pulled his boat into the long dock attached to the back of the restaurant. He picked an empty spot—and there weren’t many—jumped out and tied us up.

  Standing on the dock grinning from ear to ear, he gave us all a hand getting out. The guy never stopped smiling and it had an eerie effect on me. Nobody was that happy.

  As I walked along the old wooden dock towards the entrance to the crab shack, smells of Cajun cooking drifted out the open windows. A lot of noise came through the windows too. Sounds of a big rowdy crowd mixed with ear-splitting Zydeco music.

  The old building was clad in vertical wood siding darkened by the dampness of the swamp. The owners had tried to brighten the building up by painting the trim around all the windows and doors fire-engine red. A big old rooster weathervane sat on the roof, squeaking as it turned in the breeze.

  I hope they have beer.

  We stood at the door for a few minutes before the busy waitress had time to notice us. She had her hands full with the crowd she was already serving but she beckoned us in anyway.

  “Hold on,” she hollered over the racket. “I’ll make y’all a spot.”

  It wasn’t long before she shoved a couple of tables together and found enough chairs for the seven of us. Moonbeam sat next to Rudy and they continued their conversation—whatever they were talking about—the discussion was lengthy and animated.

  Ardal sat next to Diana and I smiled. I wasn’t sure if he’d ever had a girlfriend. Didn’t think so. When we were homeless on the streets of Austin it was only the two of us. No girlfriends during that period of his young life. No boyfriends for me either. We didn’t trust anyone. Only each other. That’s how we survived.

  Misty sat next to me and Bobo sat on the other side. The big guy wore a perpetual smile and it made me wonder what he could possibly be so fuckin happy about.

  For my own sanity, I kept my thoughts away from Rufin being home at his house with Charlotte hovering over him. None of my business anymore. Maybe it never was. Working through my misery, I had only been looking for a substitute for Farrell, and Rufin was a damned poor one when I thought back on my infatuation.

  What the hell was I thinking? I’m glad our relationship never went farther than
it did. Then I would have been dealing with guilt.

  Misty ordered the lunch special for all of us—there was no menu. You ate the special or you didn’t eat. I ordered a couple of pitchers of beer and Bobo nodded his head when beer was mentioned. Moonbeam and Misty chose to order a bottle of house wine and they happily split it.

  After consuming the best crab cakes I’d ever eaten, I headed for the ladies’ room with Misty.

  “Bobo and Rudy are going to talk to guys they know—other fishing guides—to see if any of them took Virgile Gallant up the death channel. Somebody had to take him there,” said Misty. “If he’s in the camp, the locals will know about it.”

  When we returned to our table, our waitress brought coffee, included with our meal, and we sipped the strong brew until Rudy and Bobo came back from their canvas of the other tables.

  Bobo plunked down beside Misty and began telling her a story I could barely understand. Bobo’s dialect was strongly interspersed with French words and other words I didn’t recognize as belonging to the English language.

  “Dem guys, Junior and Freddy Veco took Wizard Gallant up der. Dey say he’s da devil and dem witches don wan him der no how.”

  “But he stayed anyway?” asked Misty.

  “Yep, dat wizard start yelling out curses and waving his arms at da witches and Freddy and Junior dey turn der bateau roun and dey gone, toute suite.”

  “So the witches he’s staying with might not be protecting him?” I asked.

  “Don know, little girl. Jus’ say’n.”

  “That should make it easier for us,” said Misty, “if the witches who live there don’t want him.”

  “Think they might side with us and help us?” asked Ardal.

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” said Misty, “but if they want him gone, they might not hinder us.”

  “I get it,” said Ardal. “They might be neutral—like Switzerland.”

  “How far is it?” asked Moonbeam.

  “Less den an hour deep into da swamp,” said Rudy. “We bes go now. Get der ‘n back before dark.”