And there was still Juan Carlos haunting my dreams.
From time to time, Eddie and I have toyed with romance. Sometimes he looks at me, and I think I see a longing in his blue eyes. But I can’t be sure. In the year we’ve been married, we have hugged and touched but never been intimate. I had thought to change that with my condoms and wine. I’d been having urges…desires…okay, I’m horny. It had occurred to me that there was no reason why I couldn’t have sex with Eddie. We slept in the same bed, after all. If I rolled over and curled my body around his, I was sure he could be brought around to my way of thinking. Just in case it wasn’t so easy though, I’d purchased the bottle of wine. The condoms were for…well, you know.
“Elizabeth,” Eddie said, jolting me out of my thoughts. “You sure you’re okay? You seem distracted. And what's up with your hair? You've got bedroom hair going on."
“That's because I was just taking a nap on the couch.” I picked up the gun and smoothed down my hair as best I could. “I’ll just go put this away.”
I walked into the kitchen with Eddie on my trail. My intent was to slip the weapon back into my purse, but I couldn’t do that with the long arm of the law behind me. I laid it on the counter instead. My eyes were drawn to the package of Trojan condoms, size large, on the counter, placed next to the bottle of wine. I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.
“You got plans for the evening?” Eddie nodded his head towards the condoms, a little blush creeping into his cheeks. It was cute.
“Umm….well, I thought…” Damn! This wasn’t the smooth seduction I’d planned. Of course, now there was the Juan Carlos thing, too. How could I have sex with a dead man hovering nearby?
Eddie picked up the box and examined it. He grinned and tossed it to me. “Large, huh? Well, at least you got the size right.”
With those words, he sauntered out of the room, a little spring to his step I’d never seen before.
I debated over telling Eddie about seeing Juan Carlos. After all, I trusted Eddie. He would know what do, but it sounded so crazy. And now, I was starting to have my doubts that Juan had been real. I mean, where the hell had he gone? Maybe I'd imagined the whole thing. Maybe my desire to see him again was causing my mind to play tricks on me. I could feel paranoia rearing up, but I fought against having a full-blown anxiety attack. Eddie would really know something was up if that happened, and that would lead to questions and confessions. Better to drink my wine and start cooking supper.
I pulled the Devil card out of the ribbon attached to the wine bottle and tossed it on the counter, wondering what Juan was trying to tell me with it. That he was my addiction? My desire? No one had to give me a card to tell me that.
“Something smells good.” Eddie came back into the kitchen.
“Thanks. I’m making mushroom chicken with rice.”
“Sounds great. I’m starved. Mind if I help myself to a glass of wine?”
“Go ahead.”
He held the bottle up, staring at the label. Uh-oh. Had I mentioned the significance of that brand before? I didn’t think so or else I would never have bought the first bottle this morning. He glanced at me, but said nothing as he opened it, poured a glass, and took a small sip. He picked up the tarot card and frowned.
"What's this, Elizabeth?"
"Um…a tarot card." I stirred the chicken, trying not to meet his eyes. "Could you pour me a glass of wine, too?"
He did so and then asked, "Where did the card come from?"
"I don't know. I just found it…around. Lots of people in this town are into that voodoo crap. Why?"
"Just curious. It looks like something I've seen before. Any idea what it means?"
"Not really," I lied. "I think the guy on the card is the devil or something."
I looked at the clock, noting that it was 5:00. I could have sworn when I talked to him earlier he’d said he would be home late. Anxious to change the subject, I said, “Thought you were working late. Any special reason you are home early?”
“Yeah.” He sipped from the glass again and put the card back on the counter. “We need to talk.”
“Look, I said I was sorry about the gun thing in the supermarket. It was a bad decision that’s not going to happen again.”
“Good, but that’s not what we need to talk about.”
Eddie walked to the stove and turned the chicken to low. He grabbed my hand and led me to the kitchen table where he sat me down and placed the wine glass in front of me, saying, “You’re going to need this.”
“Okay.”
Oh, god. Did he know about Juan?
He took a long breath and stared at the kitchen table. “I got a call after we talked, one I’d been waiting on since this morning. Seems someone is stirring up interest again in finding the lost treasure of Jean Lafitte.”
“Who is this someone?”
But I thought I knew-- Juan Carlos, that sneaky bastard, toying with my emotions. He wasn’t dead. Just really good at hiding! He’d been real after all. He didn't have any superpowers. Seeing him had just…jogged my memory, breaking down the barrier my mind had put open surrounding the past. However, Juan was slipping a little if someone had spotted him.
“Remember Diego Martes?”
“Diego Martes? You mean the reason we had to get married? The guy who is supposed to be watching me?” I couldn't hide my sarcasm. "No. Never heard of him."
“He finally made contact. He wants to speak with you."
A cold chill ran through me, and I remembered the vision Juan had just shown me. Diego Martes made my stomach churn, and though I couldn’t remember the interactions I'd supposedly had with him, I knew he was an awful man. He was in my nightmares sometimes and one of the reasons I would wake up screaming. I sipped my wine, trying to breathe normally, but I couldn't hide the shake in my hands.
“Elizabeth, are you okay?” Eddie's blue eyes were filled with concern, and he ran a nervous hand through his blond hair.
“Yeah. Why does he want to talk to me?”
"Apparently, he is in big trouble with another country who wants him dead. He wants to make a few deals with our government regarding secrets he has on a couple of weapons facilities in order to get asylum here. Part of his stipulation is that he gets to talk to you first."
"He must have some good dirt if the Feds are considering his offer."
"Really good dirt. The kind that makes us anxious to reduce the money laundering charges or maybe forget about them all together."
I gave a low whistle, trying to play it cool. But I felt nauseous. If Diego Martes was free… I didn't bear thinking about what would happen to me. I'd be as good as dead.
"You don't have to do it." Eddie gave me a soft smile. "No one is making you, and you wouldn't be alone with him. I think we're all just as curious as you are to know what he wants. Besides, he may not have any real information."
"I need to think about this."
“I know. Why don’t you go rest for a few minutes? I’ll finish making supper.” Eddie placed his hands over mine. “Don’t worry. Everything is under control.”
I smiled at Eddie and nodded before going down the hall to our bedroom. I didn’t lie down. Instead I stood in the doorway, staring at the bed. I knew it was crazy, but I couldn't help thinking about how I probably wasn’t going to have sex that night. Bummer! As I thought that, I glanced at the long rectangular mirror attached to our brown chest of drawers.
Juan Carlos looked back at me from inside the glass and gave me a sad smile.
"Oh, Juan." I sat down at the edge of my bed. "What am I going to do? Diego is back."
"That's why I'm here. To protect you. And you are going to start remembering." I don't know how he did it, but suddenly he was beside me, the nearness of him warming.
"I've been trying to do that these last two years. I don't know why I can't. It's like my mind just throws up a road block. I don't even know what I hit my head on! I remember losing you and then just…blacking out."
"You didn't hit your head. I told you that I made a deal to come back here and protect you. Part of that deal included you having your memory erased. It seemed the safest alternative."
"What are you talking about? Tell me what's really going on. Maybe I should talk to Diego Martes. At least, I'd get some answers."
"Stay away from him, Elizabeth." Juan's tone was sharp. "He's obsessed with you."
"He's obsessed with the treasure that I can't even remember finding!"
"No. It's more than that. You shamed him. Don't ever forget how dangerous he is."
Juan reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold coin.
"Are we visiting the past again?" I asked.
"Yes. This is a reminder of why you can't ever trust Diego Martes."
Juan kissed me, cluttering my mind and body with sensation as the present drifted away.
***
I stood in the lobby of the Bourbon Orleans, hoping I didn't look as sweaty as I felt. Carla had taken Nicole, Betsy, and Janet upstairs to our hotel room and sent me around the corner to the all night drugstore. From the looks of things we were all going to need some serious Tylenol in the morning. As I was the least intoxicated, it became my duty to go retrieve it before everyone passed out.
Truthfully, I didn't mind going. The tarot card reader at Laveau's Lounge had freaked me out. How had Madame Euralie made her voice change like that? It had felt like someone else was speaking through her. Just thinking about it gave me the chills! And then there had been her card reading. Three important men coming in to my life? And one of them will try to kill me? That was not what I'd call a promising glimpse of the future.
Which is why it worried at me. Why would you make up a future like that for someone? What would she have had to gain? It's not like I paid her for the reading or anything. The whole thing was just too weird.
As I headed towards the elevators in the hotel lobby, I saw a man that I recognized from Laveau's Lounge. He'd been at the bar with Carla. Right now he was walking out of the elevators, wiping his hands on a handkerchief. What was he doing here? He carried an air of secrecy with him that made warning bells go off in my head--not to mention that he looked really pissed off.
Just as I was about to call out to him, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me behind a tall plant in the corner. A man pressed me against the wall. Before I could get a good look at him, he planted his lips on mine, drawing me into a deep kiss.
Sexual heat washed over me, and though I was incredibly shocked at the brazenness of this stranger, I didn't try to stop him. Maybe it was his technique. Maybe it was that I hadn't been kissed, really kissed, in a long time. For a few seconds, I just went with the sensation.
But then my mind processed the craziness of what was happening to me and I pushed at his chest.
He stepped back and gave me a crooked smile that lit up his dark brown eyes. The way his hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail reminded me of Antonio Banderas in the movie Desperado. Muscles rippled through his black t-shirt as he stuck his hands into his jeans pockets and tilted his head to the side.
"Sorry. I thought you were someone else." But he didn't sound that sorry to me. I could hear just a trace of a Spanish accent. "I hope I didn't hurt you."
"No, I'm fine. You just…startled me."
"Forgive my mistake. You look like an ex-girlfriend of mine."
"That's how you greet your ex-girlfriends?"
"Only the ones I still like to sleep with."
Hmm…I didn't know what to say to that. How could I get on the ex-girlfriend list?
"Well, it was nice to…meet you," I laughed. "I've gotta go."
"My apologies again," the man said, flashing me another drop dead gorgeous smile.
I moved away, uncertain about what to make of that spine tingling lip lock and wondering if there was any way to continue the conversation. In fact, all the way up the elevator, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Damn! It had been a good kiss!
Our hotel room was at the end of a long hallway. As I approached I could see that the door was open. I expected to hear the sounds of my friends as I approached, but it was quiet.
Too quiet. A sense of unease hung in the air.
"Probably already passed out," I muttered.
But I was wrong. So wrong.
The first thing I saw was Carla lying on one of the double beds. Her green eyes were wide open, and she stared at the ceiling. There was something dark on her chest, and it spread down her dress. Nicole also appeared to be passed out in a weird position, and her head…something was not right there either. Half of it was missing. Brain tissue peeked out at me from beneath her blond hair matted with congealed goo…blood. Betsy lay motionless on the floor, a crimson puddle forming around her. Janet sat in a recliner, the wall behind her sprayed with ragged lines of blood.
They were dead. Shot. Overcome with fear, I staggered backwards down the hall, before dropping to my knees and throwing up. My brain fumbled on what to do. Cell phone. I needed to get to my cell phone, which was tucked in the bag on my shoulder. I fumbled through it, as I pulled myself up and backed away from the scene, panic filling me, spilling out in little animal gasps. I pulled out the cell phone, dropping my purse in the process. As I turned away from the door, I bumped into a man.
He was the man who'd kissed me in the lobby.
Without hesitation, he moved to the hotel room and processed the horrific sight in the span of five seconds.
“I didn’t do that to them,” I stammered.
“Of course you didn’t.” His words were terse. “But I know who did.”
“I’m calling 9-1-1.”
“There’s no time.” The man took the phone from me, and slipped it into his pocket. "You must come with me. Bring the paper that Euralie gave you at the bar. It's what your friends were killed for.”
He turned and walked away, never doubting that I would follow. I watched him for a moment and then hurried after him, hoping I was making the right choice.
*****
Eddie woke me for dinner. I don't know when I fell asleep, but a quick look around told me I was alone. No Juan Carlos.
Grief washed over me as I remembered the faces of Carla and the others, all murdered by Diego Martes. He'd been the man coming out of the hotel elevator. If Juan hadn't pulled me aside and kissed me, I probably would have died right then. He'd saved my life. I splashed my face with cool water before heading to the kitchen.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asked as we sat down to our chicken.
“Yeah." I tried to eat, but all I could do was push the food around on my plate.
“I know you must be nervous with Martes around someplace,” Eddie said. “You sure you haven’t seen anything unusual today?”
Well…let’s see. Had I seen anything unusual? Nothing much, honey, just the ghost of the man I’d been feeling guilt over for the last two year. I'd begun experiencing weird visions of the past that terrified me in their intensity. No biggie…
“Nope, nothing new," I said, hoping it came out sounding natural.
“And there’s nothing you’ve been holding back?”
Okay. Time to put the cards on the table. I trusted Eddie. He would know what to do about Juan Carlos.
“I saw Juan Carlos today.” Eddie’s eyebrows lifted, unsure of what I meant. “He was at the grocery store and then in our living room.”
Eddie looked towards the living room, doubtful. “He still in there?”
“No. But I did see him in the bedroom a few minutes ago.”
“Um…Elizabeth, you remember that he’s dead right?”
“I remember.”
Eddie studied me, maybe wondering just how far off into the deep end of crazy I’d slipped. I’m sure he thought the news about Diego Martes looking for me was messing with my mind.
“Elizabeth, do you need to lie down some more?”
“No." I shot back, frustrated. "Do you?"
“No, but I’m not seeing dead guys in ou
r living room. What did he say he wanted?”
“The key.” I kept my voice low. “To finding the treasure.”
“Elizabeth,” Eddie’s voice sharpened and he leaned in, matching my tone. “What is it?”
Eddie looked different to me, and there was something about his eyes that bothered me. There was a cunning there that I hadn't seen before. An image from my memories came back to me, clicking together like a weird puzzle piece.
Eddie had been in Laveau's Lounge the night I'd met Juan. He'd been the blonde man who'd started to come to Euralie's defense when Diego slapped her. How had I not recognized him earlier? More importantly, what did it mean?
“Elizabeth, you have to tell me about it." He pressed when I didn't say anything. "It might be the key to getting on with our lives. Once the Feds know where the treasure is, it’s all over. We give them what they want and they will get off our backs. Then we can move on. Wouldn’t that be great? To live without the constant worry hanging over our heads?”
“Of course it would, but Eddie, I don't know what Juan is talking about. I don't have a key."
“Are you sure?” There was just a hint of anger in his tone.
Before I could answer, a loud knock at the front door interrupted us. Both of us looked in the direction it had come, wondering what was going on now. It had to be a neighbor though. Bad guys rarely knock.
“Go check and see who it is,” Eddie requested. “We should appear normal. If anyone is watching the house, they’ll know something is up if we don’t answer.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling the beginning of nervous butterflies in my stomach. My head was spinning with information overload.
“I’m right behind you.” Eddie pulled out his gun. “I've got you covered."
Unfortunately, that didn't make me feel better anymore.
I looked through the peephole and saw my neighbor, Ellen Elderbee standing there.
Voodoo Love (And the Curse of Jean Lafitte’s Treasure) Page 4
