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Return of the Devil's Spawn

Page 13

by John Moore


  “What a minute. Other people are growing organic foods on farms and in cities all over the US. Why are we, in particular, a threat?” I asked.

  Don spoke again, “Organic has been a niche market until now. But the movement is growing. There’s more and more talk about food safety and various health issues. It’s kind of a tipping point, and because you have so many followers on your website and, with Piper’s help, you can expose the health risks of contaminated foods worldwide, you could be the one to make sure that tipping point tips. At least that’s what they think. They don’t care if the organic movement takes hold ten or twenty years from now. It’s this year and the next few years they’re concerned about. They’re afraid their stock value will plummet.”

  I thought about that. It made me feel even more determined to prevail. Was I really able to make that much of a difference? But I had to put that aside for the moment.

  “Are you using us as bait again?” I asked.

  “No, you’re not bait,” Sophia said. “When I was assigned Victor’s case, Don and Will told me what they’d learned about Rogan’s plans. Those bastards are coming after you.I told them I’d only help if we told you what Rogan and Victor were planning. That’s why we are here. It’s true when Don learned about Piper’s hacking the FBI, he wanted to use threats to persuade you to help us, but I wouldn’t stand for it. Alexandra, I know you, and when you commit to doing something, you get it done. I know you are committed to organic farming and bringing healthy food to people everywhere, especially the poor. You have the skills to spread the word and change the people’s minds about the food they eat. You are a threat to ACC, and they are coming after you no matter what we do. We are just additional cavalry to watch your back.” Sophia paused to think for a moment. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

  I knew she was right and wouldn’t put Piper or me in danger if she could help it. I wasn’t too sure about the other two. It didn’t matter what I thought about them though; Victor and Rogan were coming after me. I needed all of the help I could get. “I trust you, Sophia, and I’ll do what I can to help,” I said. “Now, get these two robots out of here. Charlotte and our new manager will be here in a few minutes for a meeting. I don’t want to get them involved in all of this.”

  She tried to suppress a laugh but couldn’t help herself. She kissed Piper on the cheek, and the three left through the front door.

  I barely had time to relax before Charlotte and Michael arrived. Michael brought his alligator briefcase again. This time, it contained nothing but good news. He’d negotiated a new contract for Sweet Treat with our suppliers. He’d cut our costs by one-third, and they agreed to warehouse for us. Our costs were reduced enough to make us profitable even before we increased our sales by one penny. Now it was time for Charlotte and me to do what we were so good at: marketing.

  “Isn’t he great?” Charlotte said, smiling as wide as she could without cracking her face. It looked as though their mutual attraction had grown into much more. Charlotte hooked her arm in Michael’s and gave him an affectionate hug.

  “Yes, it’s great news,” I said. “Who are the new suppliers, Michael?” I asked.

  “They are an internationally known vendor of alternative products,” he said. “They deal in healthy foods, so they don’t carry any processed items that contain known carcinogens or contaminates. They try to fly under the radar so as not to incur the wrath of the giant food processing companies. I went to college with their CEO.”

  “Wow, they sound great,” I said. “So what’s going on with you two? Anything you want to tell me?”

  Michael blushed, and before Charlotte answered, Zach and Maddy walked into the room. “So, Charlotte, what do you think about Tom and Alexandra getting married?” Maddy asked.

  Charlotte smiled at me. “I think it’s great and about time. Those two have been lovebirds from the first time they laid eyes on each other. They are a perfect match. But wait a minute, what are you two doing in town?”

  “The remediation of the farm will take longer than we expected. So, we are here for a while,” Maddy said.

  “Hmmm, you can help Alexandra and Tom organize the local farmers’ markets then,” Charlotte said.

  “Farmers’ markets?” Michael said. “Who’s organizing farmers’ markets? I’d love to help with that.”

  Zach noticed Michael’s alligator briefcase but tried not to stare. “We’ll keep that in mind,” Zach said. “We are in the early stages of information gathering. When we get further along, we’ll get in touch with you.”

  Odd, I thought. Zach shut Michael out quickly. The alligator briefcase must have turned Zach off. Like Tom, he didn’t care much for the current television shows glamorizing alligator hunting. He knew the season was designed to control the population but thought America’s obsession was a bit bizarre. The television programs made the alligators look like dangerous villains. I thought it was weird that people liked that kind of program too, but I found The Walking Dead series to be acceptable for some reason. Maybe because the zombies represented the chaotic world we were living in and putting them out of their misery with a spike in the head felt like regaining control. I needed some control over my life with Victor and Bart Rogan both after me. I couldn’t get them off of my mind. I wondered if Clint knew why those two devils had teamed up.

  “Are you going to have bridesmaidsat your wedding?” Charlotte asked. “I could so rock a low-cut dress,” she added.

  All eyes turned to me. They all wanted to know what type of wedding Tom and I were having. I didn’t blame them for wanting a big party. I liked them too but not when I was getting married. Our wedding needed to be more personal and intimate, like our relationship. Somehow we were going to have to keep it small. That meant hiding our plans from Charlotte. If she were involved, it would be a massive affair complete with a white horse-drawn carriage and champagne fountain. She never missed an opportunity to have a party. That was the New Orleans way, party till you drop. For some, that meant drop their pants, and I didn’t need any of that anymore. At one time, I might have liked it too, but not at this point in my life. My priorities had changed, and I wanted what came after the wedding and reception: a happy family.

  “We are keeping the wedding very small, just a few family members and friends,” I said. “There won’t be any bridesmaids, flower girls, or photographers. The reception might be a little larger. After all, we are having it here in the French Quarter. I don’t know how you’d contain a party in this place. Every party in the Quarter takes on a life of its own.”

  “Well, let me know when the big day is,” Charlotte said. “I want to make sure I have time to get a date.” She and Michael chuckled like they had a secret. It was the worst kept secret in the city of New Orleans.

  Charlotte and Michael left the rest of us sitting at the kitchen table. Maddy asked Zach why he gave the cold shoulder to Michael. “I don’t know. I guess it’s because I don’t know him,” Zach said. “We learned quite a lot today about the local farmers’ markets. Each of them has an organic section. The problem they have is no one checks all of the vegetables to see if they are really grown organically. I think it makes sense to partner with the existing farmers’ markets instead of starting our own, because they have the infrastructure set up. We should just concentrate on getting our produce to the farmers’ markets customers already are familiar with.”

  “That’s a great idea, Zach,” I said. “Maybe we should concentrate our efforts on a certification program instead of setting up a completely new distribution chain. We can have our own stamp of approval. Maddy, you are creative; why don’t you and Piper come up with a name for our certification.”

  “Come on, Maddy,” Piper said. “Let’s go up to my room and work on a name for this bad bitc . . . thing,” catching herself before she said what she really wanted to say.

  Zach let them clear the room before speaking
. “Seriously, when are you planning the wedding?” he asked. “You do know that the first weekend in September is Southern Decadence weekend, don’t you?”

  Southern Decadence was the New Orleans celebration of gay pride. Our city had a reputation of being one of the most gay-friendly cities in the United States. Long before it was fashionable to welcome gay events to a city, New Orleans supported this festival. During Southern Decadence week the streets of the French Quarter were flooded with people from around the world. The celebration clogged Bourbon Street more than Mardi Gras. It was the celebration to beat all celebrations.

  “Holy shit, that’s right,” I said. “I’ll never be able to find a caterer. Hell, I may not be able to leave the condo. The streets will be packed. We’ll have to get married before September. Shit, that means in the next three weeks.”

  I went into panic mode. My face turned pale and my hands became moist. Zach said, “Don’t worry, honey, we’ll all help. It’ll all be fine.” I only wished I believed him.

  Tom came home in the nick of time. Zach went to Piper’s room to join the certification naming session. I told Tom about Sophia’s visit. It didn’t seem to surprise him. “Those guys with her must have been from the NSA,” he said. “I’ll bet they’ve been investigating Victor’s hacking farm for longer than they admitted. We can’t trust them, even though we are all on the same side. They will stop at nothing in the name of protecting national security. I’ve worked with them offshore a few times. They asked us to monitor unauthorized water traffic in the Gulf, and they play for keeps. Sophia was right when she said we are targets. After you heard what Victor said to Clint, you knew Rogan and Victor were in town to mess with us, so we will just have to be ready for whatever they throw at us.”

  “I feel a little better knowing Sophia is here, but I don’t trust those CIA or NSA guys. I agree we’ll have to be careful and stay close to home. That includes Piper, and we both know she’s not going to like that. Tom, we have something else to think about. Southern Decadence begins the first week of September. New Orleans will be crazy that week. The French Quarter will be out of control. There will be so many people partying in the city we won’t be able to move. Let’s get married before the end of August. What do you say? Is that OK with you?”

  Tom stood me up and held me close. He pushed me back so he could look into my eyes, and said, “I’d marry you today if I could. I’ll call my mom and dad and let them know.”

  He bent over, picked me up, carried me to our bedroom, and locked the door behind him. I only hoped my mother and the church congregation didn’t see what we did in there.

  Chapter Sixteen:

  Plans Change

  Morning found me on the balcony watching the early-morning show in the Quarter. Tom had to leave well before sunrise to catch his boat going into the Gulf to further examine the pollution his crew had found. Tom knew ACC was responsible, and he was anxious to find the proof. He also knew no matter what he found, they’d turn their legal and public relations teams loose spreading disinformation to avoid responsibility. For all of the late-night antics the Quarter offered, mornings were just the opposite. This was a slow Southern city waking itself up for another day, and in the Quarter, nobody rushed anywhere.

  No one joined me until nine, which was a little unusual. Piper was the first to appear, her disheveled hair a labyrinth of colors. She, Maddy, and Zach had played on the computer till the early morning hours. They seemed to enjoy each other’s company, and it was good for all of them to spend time together. Zach needed the support, Piper needed the family connection, and Maddy needed to do something with all of that energy.

  “Good morning, Piper,” I said. “Did you have fun last night?”

  “We sure did. Zach and Maddy are amazing people,” she said. “We work well together.”

  “Did you come up with a certification program?” I asked.

  “We had a lot of great ideas,” she answered. “I promised I wouldn’t share any of them without Zach and Maddy.”

  While things were quiet, I seized my chance to talk to Piper about being careful while we were dealing with the evil trio threatening us. She knew how dangerous Victor was but didn’t know Bob Broussard or Bart Rogan. “Piper, you heard what Sophia said about the danger we are in, right? Can you promise me that you will stay close to me and not venture off until it’s over?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It sucks because we are in the French Quarter but prisoners in our own home. Do you mean I can’t go anywhere without you? That would really suck,” she said.

  She had a point, but I had to stick to my guns. “No, I don’t mean you have to be glued to my side. You just can’t venture off in the Quarter without telling me where you are going, and you can’t be away from here at night.”

  “Alexandra, we can’t sit here and do nothing. When will it be over? Whatever their plan is may take years. What are we supposed to do, stay locked up?” Piper said.

  Oh my God, as usual, she was right. Waiting for these devils to show their hands would be torture for all of us. Our lives had to go on. Piper would be starting school next month, and Tom and I had just scheduled our wedding. And, what’s more, since when does Alexandra Lee wait for tragedy to strike while she does nothing? Alexandra, we need a plan.(I loved it when I talked to myself, because I knew my inner voice was really my mother, Sarah, and the universe telling me the correct path to take. I couldn’t ignore it.)

  “Piper, you are right,” I said. “Solet’s figure this out. What the hell are Victor and Rogan going to try to do to stop us?”

  Piper thought for a minute. “They could try to shut down the website, but I could get it back up before they could sing the first line of ‘When the Saints Go Marching In.’”

  She was angrily gritting her teeth as she spoke. I had to laugh to myself seeing how much she was like me even though we weren’t biologically related. If they wanted a fight, we might be ready to give it to them, but we were outmatched. We needed to find out what they were planning, and the only two people in this town who’d know what they were scheming were Jess Johnson and Clinton Cunningham. Maybe we should pay another visit to Clint.

  “Piper, let’s go visit Clint today,” I said. “Victor made a point of barging into Clint’s office to say he wasn’t moving into the prostitution business in New Orleans. If I were guessing, Clint wouldn’t take Victor’s word without checking it out.”

  “I’ll go with you anytime you are ready,” she said.

  “Victor is sneaky. He doesn’t give up easily. If he wants to bring his sex operation to New Orleans, he’ll find a way,” I said.

  “Hey, what are my two favorite girls in the world talking about?” Tom asked as he joined us on the balcony.

  “We were making a plan to deal with this Victor and Rogan situation,” I answered. “If ACC wants to try to stop us from teaching people about the dangers of their chemicals, we should move ahead even faster. What do you think?”

  Tom smiled at me with those adorable eyes of his twinkling like stars and said, “Damn right. I say we hit them hard where it hurts. They hate publicity. Darkness can’t survive in the light, solet’s give them a serious dose of it. I’ll make some calls to see if the labs have tied the pollution we found the other day in the Gulf to the ACC plant. That’ll give them something to think about.”

  “Great,” I said. “Find out what you can, and I’ll write a story for the website. Piper can put it out everywhere. They’ll shit their pants.”

  The laughter that followed was broken up by the sound of music moving in our direction down Bourbon Street. I looked to see a group of people coming our way in a slow but deliberate march, some singing and other playing horns and other instruments as they trudged. I recognized what this was because I’d seen it before.

  Piper watched as they moved together, and asked, “That song is so sad. Why are they dressed in black and walking so slow?


  “That’s a jazz funeral,” I said. “Someone has died.”

  Zach and Maddy joined us on the balcony and watched as the procession came closer. Zach said, “They are announcing the death of someone important in the Quarter. They are marching down Bourbon Street probably headed to somewhere important to the deceased person.”

  “I wonder who died,” Piper said.

  Zach had already gone downstairs to ask one of the marchers. When he returned his face was sullen. He closed his eyes before he said, “It’s Clinton Cunningham. He’s had a stroke and he’s dead.”

  Shock covered everyone’s face. Clint dead? The situation had just gotten more complicated, and I wondered if Victor had anything to do with his death. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Zach said Clint had a stroke, and even Victor couldn’t have done that. What was Victor going to do now that Clint wasn’t in his way?

  Zack broke the silence, “Clint’s organization won’t survive without him. Even though the real bosses are in the Louisiana State Penitentiary at Angola, he was the one who kept things together.”

  “Does Clint’s death give Victor a free shot at moving into New Orleans?” I asked.

  “Probably,” Zach said. “Clint had a deal with the Italians that he’d keep his prostitution operation confined to the French Quarter. The Italians had the rest of the city. Victor should be able to move into the Quarter without much resistance. That is, unless the Italians want it.”

  Piper said, “What happens if the Italians want it?”

  Zack scratched his head for a second. “Then things could get really ugly around here, and I wouldn’t want to be in the middle of that fight.”

  Holy shit, I thought, we were already right in the middle of that fight—if it happened. Don and Will put us there. I didn’t know much about the Italian underworld in New Orleans other than the rumors they’d had a hand in the assassination of President Kennedy in the 1960s. I always thought that was just urban legend, so I didn’t pay much attention to it. Now that we might be caught in a crossfire between the Italians and the Russians, I’d better learn more about who they were and what I was dealing with. I knew the perfect person to educate me: Jess Johnson.

 

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