by Ali Vali
“And what do you plan to do?”
“I have some other things to attend to, so it may be a while before I get back.”
“Like what?”
“Bruce, you don’t own any part of me, and the attitude is getting old. I’m here and I have things to do, accept that and go.”
“You have to attend to something more important than what we came for?”
“Marmande was something to do while I was here, that’s it.”
“Can I do anything for you? I’d be willing to stay behind and help,” Bruce said, sounding like he was trying to heal any damage he’d caused their relationship.
“Thanks, but I’ve put this off long enough. Take care of yourself, and tell your father hello for me. You owe him a visit when you get home. He’s different from you, but he’s still a good man.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“Take care, then. Don’t take too long, okay?”
She disconnected the call as he inhaled to say something else, and Hill watched her through her rearview mirror as she put her phone away.
Kendal got on the interstate and opened the throttle. Miles down the road, she reached an exit just before one of the large bridges spanning the Mississippi River. Cold air blew through her hair as she started down River Road. With each mile the bike ate up, she moved farther away from the clutter of houses lining the road.
Here the homes were miles apart, and most weren’t privately owned anymore. Every day, tourists from around the world followed docents dressed in period costumes to learn a little about life on Old South river plantations. A smaller plantation was the last she saw as the curvy road became dark with no streetlights or moonlight. To the right lay a long stretch of woods with a tall, simply designed wrought-iron fence surrounding it, and to the left was the high levee that kept the muddy waters at bay.
Finally, after a few miles, the woods gave way to cleared land with the same wrought-iron fence that gave passers-by only a small glimpse of what lay on the other side. All that was visible from the road were the massive oak trees that resembled spirits, with the Spanish moss blowing in the breeze, and ancient-looking azalea bushes lying dormant as they waited for spring to open the thousands of flowers they were known for. With the quick click of a button on the control in her jacket pocket, the gates opened to the bricked drive that led to the house. After almost three hundred years, the master of the house had returned to Oakgrove.
*
Under Charlie’s care Oakgrove looked very much like the last time Kendal had seen it, though now electric lights illuminated the porches and verandas where only lanterns had shone before. The house had been her joy for the time she had been in Louisiana, having overseen and helped in the original construction and additions they’d made. During the war the stories that it was haunted had saved it from serious looting and vandalism. In time Charlie erected the fence and allowed the trees to reclaim much of the land, leaving only the expansive formal gardens for the current staff to tend.
Besides modernizing the house for comfort, they had constructed a more modern barn and incorporated salvaged wood and relics from the original into the one now at the back of the house. The full stables housed some distant relatives of Jacques St. Louis’s personal mounts, especially his beloved black stallion Dubois.
Per Charlie’s directions the small staff had been given the night off so she could wander the grounds alone. She sat on the bike and just stared at her old home. The excitement of being there at last made her forget her run-in with Piper, and Kendal dismounted to start her tour. The front door was unlocked and on the center table in the foyer lay a note from Charlie.
Welcome home, Monsieur St. Louis. These walls have missed your presence, as have I. Enjoy, and call for me when you have need.
In the front parlor, wood was piled in the fireplace and the liquor bottles were all full, but none of that mattered. Kendal stood with her hands on her hips, much like she had the day it was hung, and studied the portrait of Angelina du’Pon over the mantel. The resemblance to Piper was uncanny, but the portrait showed the major difference: their eyes. Angelina’s, a paler green, were filled with love for the person she was looking at when she sat for the likeness, whereas Piper’s were more vibrant, but appeared hard and almost calculating.
Kendal walked through the house looking at and touching different objects. Finally, she visited the sword room. The priceless collection she’d amassed in her long lifetime hung along the walls. Some were older than any found in museums around the world. Each had a small brass plate that told the year it was purchased and where Kendal had acquired it. Under Charlie’s care, each sword appeared almost new.
With a small bow, she took down the last one she’d sent Charlie for storage. The Japanese katana blade had been a gift from one warrior to another when she’d saved the son of a samurai during her travels. Light and sharp, it was perfect for the upcoming days. She took it with her upstairs and dropped it on the bed so she could change. A few minutes later she wore a pair of riding pants and a loose-fitting white shirt, the sword securely strapped to her back as she strode through the back door.
*
“Where are you?” Piper asked in lieu of a greeting. After her meeting with Kendal, she’d decided to go home and relax with a glass of wine. Annoyingly, Kenny had left more than twenty messages apologizing for what he was sure was a misunderstanding.
“You’d never guess, no matter how much time I gave you,” Hill said.
“A whorehouse?”
“As interestingly strange as that answer is, no.”
“She talks about sex all the time, like she’s a little obsessed.”
“I don’t know, Piper, you sound almost jealous.”
“Please, I may need to hire someone else if you think I’m that desperate.” She rested back against a pile of pillows in front of her fireplace and took a sip of her wine. “So if you’re through playing games, tell me where you are.”
“On the levee across from Oakgrove plantation.”
“You’re on a sightseeing tour?”
“Why I work for you is the real mystery,” Hill said. “Your mark pulled up on a big Harley and the gates slid open like she owns the place. She’s in the house right now.”
“What’s her connection to the St. Louis family? That place is one of the few that’s still privately owned, though I’ve never seen any of the family in residence. And all the land the original owner acquired is still intact and the family trust controls it.”
“If you do so well investigating on your own, why do you need me?”
Moving from irritated to distracted Piper sat up and stared into the flames. “To fill in the gaps.”
“You don’t sound like you have many. Or maybe you’re just a plantation-history expert and I missed that.”
“Pops’s family owns the place next door, and since I was five, I’ve been trying to sneak over there and explore. I never get very far. This is getting more and more curious.” Piper tapped her nail against her front tooth, remembering all her thwarted efforts to climb over the brick and wrought-iron fences. “Call me as soon as you know anything.”
“Will do, boss. Oh, before I forget, I taped a conversation I thought you’d want to hear. I’ll send you a transcript as soon as I get back to the office. She told someone named Bruce Babbage to pack up and get out. He wasn’t happy about it, but believe me, she did all the talking.”
“When did she make that call?”
“Right after she met with you. She phoned him from the curb before coming here. I had Mandy check it out. Whoever Bruce is, he walked back to the hotel and asked the front desk to settle the bill for the five rooms he’d booked, leaving only one suite occupied. Mandy’s waiting to follow him to the airport. From what she said, he still looked as pissed as he sounded on the phone when Kendal treated him like the hired help.”
“I know the type, though. Richoux’s not going anywhere and she’s not about
to pass on this deal. We’re worth too much to her dead and in pieces.”
“Then she’s going it alone if this guy leaves.”
“We’ll see. Keep your eyes open and call me if anything happens or if anyone else shows up. I don’t care what time it is.”
*
“Look at you, big boy. Dubois would be happy to see that his line has carried on so beautifully.” Kendal patted the large horse on the side of the neck, letting him get acquainted with her. With gentle words she bridled him and led him out of the stall.
“How about a little midnight ride, Ruda?” Not bothering with a saddle, she landed on his back with a fluid grace not often seen without the help of a stirrup. The black horse danced a little to the right when he felt her weight, but just as quickly waited for her command when she squeezed his middle with her legs. In a strong voice she said, “Ha,” sending him toward the wooded area of the property, obviously glad for the freedom to run without the feel of the saddle since he moved as if he found joy in the long, fast stride.
She rode until they were well away from the house, then moved to the fence line. After a few sections she found what she was looking for and opened the hidden gate to allow them to move onto the road. Locking up before she crossed, she let a small laugh escape that Ruda’s snorting echoed. He seemed to know what was coming next.
Ruda’s powerful legs made quick work of the levee, and she let him loose once they were on level ground again, letting him set the pace. She slowed him only when she spotted the car. It was almost too easy to surprise the person sent to watch, especially if she was asleep.
*
Hill tried to decipher why her chin felt so cold so she could do something about it without waking. A move of her head to the right only increased the chill, and now a slight painful pressure made her open her eyes. When she did, she almost laughed at her hilarious dream. Got to lay off the nachos after nine, she thought. Sitting bareback was Kendal Richoux, holding a sword to the underside of her chin.
“Want to explain why you’re parked on private property?”
She sounds so real, Hill thought, as she blinked rapidly. “Um…”
“Tell me, Ms. Hickman, are you a better detective than you are a talker?”
The steel was biting into her skin now, and she tried to pull back, only to have Kendal lean in farther after her. Any sudden moves might cause parts of her face to decorate her lap.
“This is public property and I was just taking a nap.” It embarrassed her to be caught sleeping on the job, but a quick glance at her dashboard clock showed she’d been out there for hours, allowing the cool temperatures and silence to get to her.
“You got part of the story right, anyway. The drooling confirms the napping, but unfortunately for you, you’re parked on Oakgrove property.”
“I’m sorry to disagree with you, but the levee system belongs to the state.” She stopped talking when she remembered her current predicament.
“Actually, most levees in this country belong to the feds, but the ten-mile stretch in front of this house is an exception. The estate stretches from the waterline of the river to the other side of a lake west of here so, in fact, you’re trespassing. We don’t know each other well, so let me explain how much trespassers offend me, and if that’s not bad enough, being spied on makes me want to see how sharp this thing is.”
“I’m sorry. If you’ll move back I’ll be on my way.” Hill tried to sound in control, but the situation was so bizarre she couldn’t keep the slight quiver out of her voice.
The sword pulled away from her face so Kendal could slide off the horse’s back. “Not yet. Get out of the car,” Kendal ordered. “And leave your weapon on the seat. If you think you’re fast enough to draw on me you’ll find your hand bloodying the grass before you can tense your finger on the trigger. If you don’t believe me, try.”
She removed the small pistol, not doubting the threat. “I meant no harm.”
Kendal put up one hand as she sheathed the sword with the other. “You’re doing your job, I can understand that. But why are you still here doing it?”
“What do you mean?” Hill relaxed a little when the chance of being sliced and diced diminished with the disappearance of the blade.
“Didn’t you play the tape for her? I stopped so you’d get the whole thing.” Kendal sounded reasonable, and it was a little spooky that she was so on the mark. No one she’d ever followed was this perceptive. “Tell Miss Marmande I’m not interested in her little company, so she can save the money this is costing her. She’ll need it to fight off the next corporate raider.”
“How’d you know?”
“By studying my opponent, Ms. Hickman. If you know your enemy, you know what to expect. It’s not that difficult. Piper is predictable and you’re on her payroll, so I doubt you’re out here in the middle of the night soaking up the ambiance.”
“Years of experience, huh?”
“It helps, but the concept isn’t new. Master Tzu wrote it all in his book. In your line of work, you should be acquainted with it.”
“Ah, you read The Art of War.”
“So many times I feel like I know Master Tzu personally,” Kendal said, whistling for her horse. “I’d say it was a pleasure, Ms. Hickman, but I don’t lie that well. Please tell your client to stay the hell away from me. After tonight I don’t have any plans for Marmande Enterprises. She has my word.”
“Thank you, Ms. Richoux.”
“You’re very welcome. Just remember my warning. I won’t be so nice next time, and you have such a handsome face. Pity something might happen to change that.” Kendal arched an eyebrow before she mounted the horse again and kept riding along the levee toward New Orleans.
To Hill, she looked like a piece of the past brought back to life in vivid proportions. She could almost imagine the plantation owner riding along the river as the crops grew nearby, waiting for the fall harvest. It was a shame she wouldn’t have a reason to follow Kendal any longer. Unlike most of the others she trailed, Kendal seemed like a fascinating subject.
Hill started her car even before she had the door closed, not anxious to still be around when Kendal returned. Her cell phone was on the seat, but she drove almost halfway back to the city before she called Piper. “She made me, and she knows who signs my paychecks.”
Piper didn’t answer for more than a minute. “What the hell doesn’t she know? I’m beginning to think the only secret I have left is the color of my underwear.”
“I wouldn’t put even money on that. This woman’s different, Piper. She said you have her word she has no interest in your company, so I’d stay clear.” The memory of that blade biting into her skin made her shudder. She didn’t doubt that if she were found on Oakgrove property again, Kendal would hand her her ass on a plate, literally. “You don’t want her as an enemy, believe me.”
“You show fear in business and you might as well hang the For Sale sign up. You have to realize that you don’t put in that sort of time and effort to just walk away. Come on, Hill, you don’t need an MBA to figure that one out.”
“No, it’s you who doesn’t understand. She gave her word, and I get the impression that means a lot to Kendal Richoux. She rode up on a damn black horse and held me at swordpoint. I’m telling you, Boss, you don’t want to mess with her.”
“That’s why I run a business and you lurk around after people. Call me tomorrow. I want to know a lot more about Richoux.”
“As long as I can find it on a computer screen, lady. ’Cause no way in hell am I putting myself in striking distance again,” she said to the empty car after Piper disconnected.
Chapter Nine
The ride was refreshing, and Kendal would’ve sworn Ruda enjoyed it as much as she did. With the minor annoyance gone from across the street, she returned through the main gates a little after four in the morning. It felt good to be on horseback riding through land that reminded her of the Shômû, or summer seasons, as a child when the world moved with the
pharaoh to the southern palace and its rich fields of grain.
Those carefree times were the treasures of her past that helped her bridge the stretches of loneliness in her life. Her father had led the pharaoh’s legions, and his best and most trusted men were among her first teachers, but in the trek up the Nile they were more of an extended family who, along with her father, had indulged her love of fun. All of them were long dead, but they still had an unforgettable place in her heart.
“I was beginning to think you’d run away.” Morgaine seasoned the reprimand with a large dose of teasing, and seeing her standing on the porch made Kendal smile.
Through the centuries, in every lifetime Morgaine had known the names she’d gone by, the details of the identities she’d chosen, and why, sometimes, because of the society, it was easier to live as a man than a woman. Though Morgaine had so much information about her, in return Kendal knew her only as Morgaine.
In the life of immortality she had chosen, she had witnessed Morgaine become an Elder in the Genesis Clan, but she still remained Kendal’s watcher. Morgaine now participated with the others in passing judgment when it was warranted so they could coexist in balance. For every powerful black force that was created, the Elders looked for a stronger white light to either control it or destroy it, if necessary. When things were quiet, Morgaine would be absent from Kendal’s life for decades.
“Had I known such beauty was waiting on my steps, I would’ve beaten the horse back.” She slid off Ruda and landed with a small thump on the pavement of the drive. One of Morgaine’s men took the reins and led the horse away for a thorough brushing. “I mean, how often am I visited by the goddess of war?”
“I carry only the name, my warrior, but none of her powers.”
