by John Moore
“They won’t like that at all,” I said. “You can believe they will do something to retaliate. Piper, I need you to check out something for me. Would you retrieve the info we compiled on Victor’s operations and see if he’s messed with it? I can’t believe he’d be back here to threaten us if he thought we could expose his crimes.”
“Sure,” she said. “It may take me a while.”
“You work on it while I go to the center,” I said. “I shouldn’t be long. Don’t open the door for anyone even though you can see who it is on the video surveillance system. OK?”
“OK,” she said. I didn’t know if I completely believed her. She was curious and wanted to roam the Quarter. I hoped she understood the danger we were in with Bart Rogan, Victor Ivanovich, and Bob Broussard in the Quarter at the same time. I comforted myself by thinking that Tom would be home soon.
I made the short drive to Sarah’s House in no time. Even though it was rush hour, traffic was light. Maybe I just caught it right. No matter, because I wasn’t in any hurry. I needed to process my conversation with Clint and our surprise visit from Victor. The more I thought about the conversation, the more unnerved I became. Victor made a point of telling Clint he wasn’t going to meddle in his affairs, but he didn’t say anything like that to me. That could only mean that he was after my family or me somehow. I was sure if his hacking farm had managed to destroy the trail to all of his misdeeds, it would mean he was in town for me, but why? Piper would find out what happened to the records. I had to prepare myself for the worst.
As I entered the center, my heart warmed at the sight of the children playing with the donated toys. Children don’t seem to have worries. Maybe it’s because they don’t know about the evils in the world. Whatever the reason, I envied them. Susan was in her office completing her paperwork ritual when I walked in. She jumped up and gave me a huge Susan hug.
“Alexandra, this an unexpected surprise,” she said. “What brings you here on this cloudy day?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the food we offer to our residents,” I said. “We rely on donations of canned goods for the most part, but I was wondering if we couldn’t do better. All of those canned goods are laden with chemical preservatives. They keep the contents fresh by killing bacteria. When they are eaten, they kill good bacteria in our digestive tracts we need to maintain optimal health. Some are even linked to cancer.”
“Fresh food would be healthier for all of us if it were accessible and affordable. We aren’t in a position to shop for it though. We can’t afford it,” Susan said. “What do you have in mind?”
“Most families in New Orleans are in the same position we are,” I said. “I want to change that. My family farm in Indiana is preparing to grow organic vegetables. It will take us a while to prepare the land since ACC polluted the water and the land. So, I am going to start a farmers’ market for organically grown produce in the city. I would like the center to start serving theproduce in the food it prepares. What do you think?”
Susan’s face brightened at the thought. “Come with me,” she said. “Let’s go find Karen and tell her what you are planning and see what she thinks. As you know, she is our official cook now, and has a recipe for just about everything.”
We found Karen going over recipes with Dusty. She was thrilled with the idea of having fresh food to cook. She said most of the girls had eaten fast food all of their lives and didn’t know what real food tasted like. She and Dusty pledged to help in any way they could. I had a secret plan I wasn’t ready to disclose to anyone at the moment. I thought all of the schools in the parish should only serve organic vegetables. First, I had to produce the source and then prove the concept. After those two goals were met, I’d be able to present it to the school board. New Orleans had constructed the most advanced charter school system in the United States after Hurricane Katrina. Why shouldn’t they have the best food to go along with it? Now it was up to me to find the money and put it all together.
My phone alerted me I had a text. It was Piper. “Mandy Morris is here and wants to see you.”
Chapter Twelve:
Old Enemy
I said my goodbyes and sprinted to my car, calling Piper on my way home.“Mandy’s there? You didn’t let her in, did you?” I asked.
“No way. She rang the doorbell. I could see her on the video security system. Instead of making her talk to me through the speaker, I went out on the balcony and shouted down to her.”
“Good girl,” I said. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her you weren’t home and I wasn’t allowed to open the door to anyone, not even her,” Piper said. “I told her to text you and see when you’d be home.”
Sure enough, a text came in from Mandy inquiring about my return to the Quarter. I asked her to meet me at Café du Monde. That way I could have some café au lait and avoid getting trapped with her in my house. I didn’t much care for her dropping by to see me whenever she chose. I didn’t trust her, even though I didn’t believe she was involved in murder.
Mandy was seated by herself, wearing her all-black attire. Her pale skin against the jet-black blouse made her look like a vampire who’d figured out how to live in the sunlight. Funny, I thought. I used to only see Mandy at night, so maybe she was a vampire. She did seem to like Bloody Marys in those days.
I sat at her table with my coffee. “Mandy, don’t you get hot wearing all black in the middle of the summer?”
Mandy formed one of her expressionless faces, making her look more like the living dead than a vampire. “No,” she said. “I’m used to it.”
I took a sip of my coffee. “What did you need to talk to me about?”
“I wanted to know why you and Piper ran out of our ceremony the other night,” she said. “We were just getting started. I’m sure Piper would have loved watching what we do.”
Was she kidding me? They were worshiping an escaped serial killer. The whole congregation was hooded and chanting voodoo. What the hell was that, an attempt to conjure up Bob Broussard? Even Piper knew something wasn’t right about their ceremony. That group of misfits may not be dangerous, but they sure looked like they were. I wasn’t taking any chances with Broussard on the loose.
“Mandy, what exactly was going on there? Was Bob Broussard one of the hooded figures chanting? If not, why did you have his picture on the altar? Does your group worship him?”
“Bob wasn’t there. We weren’t worshiping him or anything. In our voodoo practice, we believe that higher beings live in each of us. We chant to bring them out. Bob has a strong spirit and has connected to the higher being inside himself. He is an inspiration to all of us, and looking at his picture helps us to focus on his strength of character,” she said.
“What the hell are you talking about, Mandy? Strength of character? He killed seven innocent women and his not-so-innocent mother. He’s a murderer, not someone to be admired. Is Bob responsible for any of the latest murders in the Quarter?”
“You don’t know Bob like I do,” she said. “If you did, you’d understand. There are wrongs in this world he must right. Do you know anything about those women he set free? You have no idea what they did to deserve their fate or how much better off they are now. They represented the evil class of people who oppress others. They only cared about themselves, not those around them.”
“Mandy, that’s just crazy. Your parents and Bob’s parents were wealthy. Both of you lived a privileged life. You only cared about partying, not helping anyone. How can you justify what you are saying?”
“Don’t you see, Alexandra?” she said. “I’ve changed my ways. I am living a different life now, finally connected to my people. They are my brothers and sisters now. We don’t worry about who has money and who doesn’t. We take care of each other. A class war is coming. Maybe you should choose a side. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you our door is always open to you if you want to join u
s.”
Mandy left, having accomplished her mission of keeping a communication channel open between us. I had my own reasons for wanting the connection. I’d promised Jess I’d write articles about the killings in the Quarter, and Mandy’s boyfriend, Bob, was the prime suspect. Mandy hadn’t answered me when I asked if Bob was behind the most recent murders, and I wondered why. Were they doing it together?
She was right about one thing. Everyone has to choose a side sooner or later. Her problem was, in her distorted reality, good and evil weaved together like ivy growing on a plaster wall. It looksbeautiful to the casual observer, but over time the ivy’s roots burrow their way into the plaster, ruining the wall. It eventually falls, destroying the ivy and the wall. That is exactly what happens to good people who make deals with evil, because the devil always collects those debts. Mandy was lost, like so many people I see today. All paths through life’s jungle look like the right path home. Most people can’t discern one from the other and follow anyone who persuades them their path is correct. People like Mandy blindly follow. I felt sorry for her. No wonder her poor father was concerned.
Tom pulled his car into the garage after his day at work. Our condo was incredible. Without Bob Broussard making the price affordable, we would not have been able to purchase a home like this in two lifetimes.
The garage entrance was on Dauphine Street, anda short driveway led to the two-car garage. There wasn’t another like it on the street. Once the garage door was shut, we were completely secure in this house. It didn’t matter what insanity was going on outside, because our home doubled as a French Quarter fortress. Bob’s father spent a great deal of money creating the perfect retreat in the middle of one of the most entertaining places on the planet to live. I was grateful to Bob, which made me cut Mandy slack, but I also knew what he was capable of doing, so I feared him as well.
Tom’s hands were full of bags from Fresh Market when he walked into the kitchen. He had yellow squash, zucchini, broccoli, cauliflower, and celery. I guess the talk about farming vegetables made him hungry. Fine by me. I loved vegetables. Mom cooked them every day. Tom looked a little ragged, not looking his usual chipper self.
“Is something wrong?” I asked. “You look a little worn down.”
“Alexandra, those ACC bastards just won’t stop,” Tom said. “You know they have a pesticide and herbicide plant in Plaquemines Parish south of New Orleans. Well, we were taking water samples in the Gulf less than five miles from their plant. We were looking for residual contamination from the BP spill. One of the other marine biologists noticed asheen on the water. We followed it back to within one mile of their plant. There was a concentration of a chemical none of us could identify. We sent it to a lab for analysis. I’ll bet it is some new environment-murdering toxin. We can’t prove it came from ACC’s plant, and that’s a problem.”
“Why can’t you?” I asked.
Tom explained that wind and water currents could have made the slick drift from one of the other plants on the river. Maybe it leaked from a barge. They’d need conclusive proof to nail ACC. Maybe that’s why Bart Rogan was in town. But why would he be with Victor Ivanovich?
“We took a second sample to the EPA. They will begin an investigation to try to determine the origin of the spill,” Tom said. “Well, that was my day. How was yours?”
I almost didn’t have the heart to tell him about my day, but if we were to be married, we needed to share everything—good and bad news. “I went to see Clint today about Victor and Bart Rogan. While I was in his office Victor walked in,” I said. “He was there to tell Clint not to worry about him being back in New Orleans. Victor said he wasn’t back to interfere in Clint’s business.”
Tom’s eyes flew wide open and his jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me. He actually walked into Clint’s club. Did Victor say anything to you?”
“No. And that’s what made the whole episode so scary. He made a point of telling Clint not to worry, but he barely acknowledged my presence. He and Rogan must be in New Orleans to mess with us. Why else would they have been standing outside our condo the other morning?”
“You are probably right. I don’t know what we can do about it. We can’t prove they’ve broken any laws yet,” Tom said. He hesitated for a moment, looked at his feet before he raised his head, and said, “Alexandra, I know you are still freaked out about shooting El Alacran. I see you toss and turn at night. Sometimes you talk in your sleep. Most of it is unintelligible,but I’ve heard you say, ‘No, no, no.’ You are having nightmares, aren’t you?”
I really didn’t want to talk about how my mind was tortured by the fact that I had killed a man. He was pure evil, but I still took a human life. But I knew Tom wouldn’t let the subject drop. “Yes,” I said.
“You haven’t worn your ankle holster with your .38 in it since the shooting,” Tom said. “Are you planning to wear it again?”
“I don’t know if I can,” I said. “I don’t think I could shoot anyone again. Over and over my mind plays the scene of me pulling the gun and shooting El Alacran. I am haunted by his face day and night. I see the bullet hit his chest, his body hit the ground, and his blood spill from his body. It’s awful. At times, I imagine it was only a dream and I didn’t really kill him. But soon I realize it was real. I killed a man.”
Tom reached out his arms and drew me against his chest. A small tear flowed down my cheek. His finger stroked my hair. “You did what you had to do. He was an evil man. He tried to kill you and Piper. You saved two good lives that day, and who knows how many in the future. We have to fight the evil ones or they will stamp out good in this world.”
A small voice said, “Alexandra, you saved me from him. He was going to cut my head off with his machete. You saved me.” She ran over to Tom and me and hugged me from behind.
“Oh, Piper, I know, and I’d do it all over again if I had to. I will always protect you. I love you,” I said.
Maybe I needed to hear myself say it out loud. I would do it all over again. El Alacran was evil, and he was trying to kill Piper. The point wasn’t that I killed an evil man. What I’d really done was save a good soul who would touch the lives of many others. My actions had a ripple effect, expanding far beyond the shooting. Good was spread and evil was stopped. The warm healing surge of relief flowed through my body lifting the weight from my shoulders.
“Yes, Tom, I can wear my .38 again, and I will,” I said. Tom smiled and crushed me to his chest. Piper stepped back and went upstairs to her room. I think she’d had enough bonding for a while. I was enjoying Tom’s body against mine, and impure thoughts were beginning their slow creep into my mind, when my phone rang. Maddy was on the line.
“Hi, Alexandra. Do you have a minute to talk?” she asked.
“Sure, Maddy. What’s up?” I asked.
“I’m a little worried about Zach,” she said. “I’m afraid he may backslide. He had so much work to do when we first arrived on the farm; it kept his mind occupied. But we are at a standstill till you get some clarity from ACC about the cleanup of the land. Jason went back to California till it’s resolved. It may be months before ACC decides to act. Zach needs to stay busy.”
Holy shit. She was right. They were stranded on the farm with nothing going on. That was a terrible environment for a recovering drug addict. I couldn’t leave them there. “Why don’t you and Zach come back to New Orleans till we get things cleared up,” I said. “You both can help Tom and me with our farmers’ market plans. You can stay in our guest bedroom if you don’t mind bunking with Zach.”
“Alexandra, you are the best! That would be perfect. I’ll tell all the ladies I’m training to carry on bythemselves till I return. When can we leave?”
I held my hand over the mic on the phone to confirm the plans with Tom. He thought it was a brilliant idea. “I’ll get Piper to book your flights,” I said. “You can probably leave tomorrow.”
“I almost forgot to tell you, Alexandra,” Tom said. “I told the guys at work about our plans for the farmers’ markets. They all want to help. They also told me about some farmland in LaPlace that we could purchase for a reasonable price. The land is too low for developers to put a subdivision on, but perfect for farming. Zach can help determine if we could grow the right crops on it with what he’s learned from Jason. If it looks like it may work and it’s necessary, we’ll fly Jason in to look at it too.”
“Excellent,” I said. “Things are coming together. I’ll call Mr. Swartz to get an appointment. We’ll find out what’s going on with the ACC negotiations.”
I walked up the stairs to Piper’s room. As usual, she was pecking away at hercomputer.
“Piper, were you able to retrieve the info we found about Victor’s activities?”
“No. It was all gone. Even with my tricks, I couldn’t find any of it. His hacking farm must have wiped it clean. As far as the web is concerned, Victor is a spa owner in LA.”
“I thought once something was on the web itcould never be erased,” I said.
“That’s true in most cases, but if the right person is at the keyboard, anything can be erased. All you have to do is hack into every place that had it on its server and erase it. Quite a bit of work for anyone working alone, but if you have a highly skilled hacking team, it’s a piece of cake. Victor’s got the best working for him in Russia. All day long they steal identities and hack into websites. The ladies at the spa used to tell me some corrupt Russian government officials helped him. I’m sure he got rid of all of it within a week of us sending your article to him.”
