by T. S. Hill
“Bring a glass for me, Rosita.”, Lori called out.
“If it’s some of that yummy merlot that you’re getting, bring three glasses!”, Sasha called out.
“I only have two hands! I hope that there’s a sacacorchos!”, Rosia called back.
“Is that like a chupacabra?”, Sasha asked. Rosita started giggling, and Lori responded to Shasha.
“No, Shug, a sacacorchos is a corkscrew.
“Whew!”, Sasha signed with relief. “I thought maybe it was one of those monster things, and it might be in that closet.”
“I’ll help you get everything.”, Lori spoke up to Rosita.
“Shash!”, I called out. “It’s a wine closet! There are no wine closet monsters, that suck blood from goats.”
“Yeah, but I hear that all kinds of weird shit lives down here in south Texas; stuff that comes up out of the swamps.”, she replied.
“That sounds more like Voodoo Island, in Louisiana.”, I said. “It’s only about seven miles down Bayou des Allemands from Bayou Gauche.”
“There are monsters where we live?”, Sasha said getting big eyed.
“Only the human kind, Sash, and of course the giant gator kind.”, I told her. “Don’t believe all that folklore crazy stuff. I’ve hunted, and fished the bayou’s and swamps for the last, I guess, ten years, at least. The only monster that I’ve seen was a fourteen foot gator that Aug and I hooked once. He got away of course.”
“What’s this Voodoo Island?”, she asked. Chills had gone up my back when I said the name of that place, and chills crawled over my skin when she said it.
“It’s just this place that’s rumored to have some weird stuff going on.”, I told Shasha. “Supposedly there’s this voodoo priestess, Antonique Jubeaulet, that rules the island as its queen. Her zombie like followers guard the island and protect her. The legends say, that the men who guard her have feet of alligators, and heads of catfish, with cotton mouth moccasins living in their stomachs, that launch through their mouths to strike anyone who confronts them.”
“She’s said to be a woman of incredible beauty, with an insatiable sexual appetite. And, that she never ages, because she keeps her youth, by pulling the life force from the men who come there in search of her. Once they succumb to her sexually, mentally they become her zombie slaves. Old Mose used to say that she wasn’t human at all, but was a monster from hell itself, that could bewitch men, or women, and take on the form of either a man, or a woman. Supposedly, the women she seduces become her lieutenants, helping her govern her island of male zombie slaves.” I suddenly shuddered violently, as a chill went over my body.
“Are you okay, Babe?”, Sasha who had her eyes intently on me, asked.
“Yeah. Just had a moment there.”, I said shaking my head. “I grew up hearing about all of those old swamp legends, and sometimes, Old Mose would make it all sound so real, that it would make you shudder. I think that I just had one of those moments, remembering my youth!"
“Who’s Old Mose?”, she questioned.
“An old African gentleman, that Aug and I knew, who lived way down in the swamp, all alone on a shack of a houseboat. He fished and somehow trapped for his livelihood. I say somehow, because he was blind, and lived alone. Still somehow, he managed to navigate his boat around the bayou and get by. We would carry him a bag of tobacco when we would go down in there hunting or fishing, and Old Mose would always tell us where to best hunt or fish, and what to best use for bait. He always had a pot of something cooking on his old wood fired stove. If we were hungry, he’d feed us. While we ate, he’d fill our heads with swamp tales, folklore, and legends. Looking back, I sometimes think, that maybe, he just wanted to be sure that we got home before dark. But some of his tales, scared the bejebus out of us! And some of them, sounded like Old Mose was telling a straight up story from something that he actually lived and saw. Of course, he’s been blind from birth, so I always figured that he was just a good story teller. Still, sometimes I wonder.”, I finished.
“What ever happened to Old Mose?”, Lori asked, arriving back, with Rosita, bringing glasses and an open bottle of merlot.
“As far as I know, he still lives down there in the swamp. Life got busy, and Aug and I haven’t been that far back in the deep swamp now, for a few years.”, I answered. “Anyway, we all need to have a quick conversation about tonight. There’re two guests coming to dinner that are going to require a little special handling. So, pour yourselves a glass of wine, and have a seat, while I fill you in. Then I have a little surprise.”
The girls poured their wine, and each having a glass, took positions on the carpet around my feet, instead of sitting in the chairs. I felt like my grand pa, at story telling time, when Allie and I used to gather round, before bed time, to hear one of his yarns. And a bit like Gramps used to do, I took a sip of scotch, savored it, and then began to fill them in on Anette and Francine, and how important it was to play our cards close, and not let out any info as to why we are really there. Additionally, I stressed how we must keep things controlled, and smooth during diner, no matter how nasty Francine may get. And, I let them know about Al’s gut feelings about how she might be connected to his company’s current plight. Then, I produced the personal data sheets for the two women, and handed them over to Sasha to run the background checks on. She downed the remainder of her glass of wine in one swallow, and eagerly jumped up to begin her task.
“What is the surprise Amante?”, Rosita asked.
“Let Sasha finish her inquiries first.”, I replied. “There’s one other thing that I need to swear you all to silence on.”
“Sounds like there is time for another glass of wine, Rosita.”, Lori said holding her glass toward Rosita to refill.
“There are not two glasses left in the bottle.”, Rosita replied. “Should I get another?”
“Definitely!” Lori replied.
“I’ll take another glass.”, Sasha spoke up, as she typed away at her keyboard.
“There are some nice pinot noir’s in that closet.”, Rosita observed. “Should I put a few bottles in the refrigerador?”
“I supposed it wouldn’t hurt.”, I replied. “I love a good pinot. But first let me tell you about Annette’s hair and Al’s opinion of it, and what Francine has done regarding it.”
“Is this, el secreto o la sorpresa?”, Rosita asked.
“Hah! I figured that one out!”, Sasha suddenly blurted with satisfaction.
“Figured out what Shug?”, Lori asked.
“El secreto o la sorpressa!”, Sasha answered, with a hint of a Spanish accent in her voice. “the secret or the surprise! I’m going to learn that fucking language if it’s the last thing that I do.”
“Well, let’s hope that it’s not the last thing that you do.”, I piped up.
“No, Babe,”, she said, turning and winking at me. “Actually, I’m hoping that you’ll be the last thing that I do.”
“Well, that’s sweet, Sash. Morbid, but sweet.”, I commented, shaking my head.
“So, tell us already, about the secret with Al and Annette’s hair, and how it involves Francine.”, Lori said with a tone of impatience. And so, I quickly filled them in on Al’s attraction to Annette, and his preference for her naturally dark brunette hair, and how Francine had been copycatting her look, in both hair style and color and fashion. And of course, the need to keep it all secret that they knew anything, and Al’s wish to drop any opportune hint to Annette to change back to her natural hair color.
“How does he know that the brunette was her natural color?”, Lori asked.
“I think that he assumes it.”, I replied. “Like I do, for some reason. Maybe her eyebrows are the clue? I don’t know. Something makes you think that though. And, Al said when he first met her, that her hair was a dark brunette, and he was pretty enthused with it.”
“Hmm,”, Lori mused, “maybe we can plant a little, subliminal, something-something, in her head. I’ve been thinking about going back blonde, myself.”
“I like this strawberry blonde, red head look,”, Sasha commented, “but, since coloring my hair, for the first time at all, I’ve found myself wondering what I would look like as a dark brunette, and maybe get a little tan for the first time in my life too.”
“I, Rosita, will stay Rosita. I like me!”, Rosita chirped confidently.
“Well, you were born perfect, Rosita.”, Sasha commented. “I, was born needing a little help.”
“Me? I just like to change things up a bit. It keeps life interesting.”, Lori stated. “Like sex! A little change. A little spice. Something you already like, plus something new and different that you haven’t done in a while, or maybe ever. That makes it fun and interesting, and arousing to I think.”
“Si, I agree, Lori.”. Rosita replied, “but I also like Rosita just the way she is!”
“I like Rosita just the way she is too!”, Sasha piped up.
“I like you all just the way you are and also the ways in which you change things up as you go.”, I piped up. “Sash, how close are we on those background reports?”
“I will get the wine now.”, Rosita stated, as she rose to go back into the kitchen area.
“You want to read these on the screen, or do you want a print out?”, Sasha asked.
“What do you have on Annette?”, I asked.
“Clean as whistle. Stellar service record, heavily decorated Army, mustered out as a Staff Sargent. She job hopped a lot after that, with gaps of unemployment. Her credit record sucks a bit, probably as a result of the frequent unemployment periods. Parents, and grandparents from here in Houston. High School here, local junior college, then army, then the job stuff started. She looks like the typical high school girl that didn’t get married right out of school, and bounced around trying to find herself, and a career. A lot like me, except that I didn’t go into the army or anything.”
“Yeah, print that for Al. It’ll give him a little peace of mind. What’s that already spitting out of the printer?”, I asked, noticing a growing stack of paper in the finished tray of the printer.
“That’s the report on Francine Williams.”, she replied. “You’re going to want that one in black and white on paper.”
“Why?”, I asked.
“You’re going to fucking shit!”, she said, looking at me with wide open eyes. I got up and pulled what was already printed of the report pages from the printer tray, and began scan reading, it. The first thing that jumped out at me was her criminal report. Evidently this woman had been a miscreant all of her life. Her age wasn’t all that she had lied about. She had been involved in scams, assaults, charged with murder once, and found not guilty, and a variety of misdemeanors, such as multiple disorderly conduct charges and fines.
“I can’t believe that she hasn’t been charged with jaywalking.”, I muttered. “She’s been charged with everything else.” Then my eyes caught the time line change, where the name listed in the charges changed from Williams, to Milinni. “Son of a bitch!”, I shouted, slapping the bundle of papers on the desk top.
“Nope! But, she’s his sister!”, Sasha shot back.
“What is it Cowboy?”, Lori asked, as I walked in a fast circle steaming.
“The S, O, B?”, Sasha replied to Lori, when I didn’t answer at first.
“What?”, Lori exclaimed.
“His sister!”, Sasha confirmed.
“What?”, said again reaching for the bundle of papers in my hand. I turned them around and pointed to where the sir name change took place in the police report.
“Williams is evidently a married name or an assumed name.”, I explained.
“Are you sure, that she’s his sister?”, Lori asked Sasha.
“Williams is her married name.”, Sasha blurted. “There’s more to come in the report. Their parents, etc. She’s definitely the sister of the guy, that you call the SOB. She was born, Angelina Francine Milinni. Named after her fraternal grandmother. Evidently, she went by Francine most of her life, except when she flunked out of college. She’s a fucking LSU reject!”, Sasha said with a slight grin on her face. Quiet a fucking reject too!”
“This puts us all at a huge risk!”, I said to everyone and no one in particular. This means that Sam Milinni knows that I’m here, at least. Al’s gut instincts are usually pretty good, and boy were they on the bull’s eye with this! We go armed to dinner tonight, that is if we go at all.”, I said.
“I think we have to go, Cowboy. Otherwise, she may think that you’re on to her. And I don’t think that you want that just yet, do you?”, Lori asked.
“You want me to carry the AR gun to the dinner?”, Rosita asked.
“No, just the handguns that we can keep concealed.”, I answered. We are really going to have to put on a straight face act at dinner!”, I stated emphatically. “Holy fucking shit! Sam Milinni’s fucking sister! Son of a bitch!”
“Rosita will carry a knife then, and if wine is served, I will keep a bottle near me.”. Rosita stated with some anger in her voice. “From my time in the cantina, I know how to use the bottle to, how you say? Fuck a man up?”
“That’s exactly how you say it!”, Sasha replied to Rosita.
“Hopefully, nobody gets fucked up.”, Lori intervened. “Cowboy’s right, we have to be really cool, and not convey in any way, that we know who she is. What about Al, Cowboy. Are you going to tell him?”
“Not before dinner.”, I answered, finally calming myself a bit. “Al wouldn’t have time to calm down, and put it all in perspective, before going face to face with her. So, I’ll tell him tonight after she leaves. By the way, if she hangs around too long, it wouldn’t hurt, I suppose, to take advantage of her penchant for getting offended and leaving in a huff. Some slight offending comment wouldn’t be out of order, if she lingers too long after dinner. But for every moment from here forward, we assume that Sam… the SOB, knows that we’re here, and maybe why we’re here. Our risk level, just went up a thousand percentage points.
“I’m putting this wine in the refrigerator. This is not the time for drink.”, Rosita stated.
“You’re absolutely right, Rosita.”, I told her. “Take this glass of scotch and cover it for me with something in the kitchen, will you. It’s too good, and too expensive, to pour out. But, you’re right. It’s not the time for drink.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon back on task, sorting documents for the massive data entry that we would have to do. Sasha spent some time creating a data base form, that the information from each document could be formatted into, whether it was a receipt, picture, contract copy, or whatever. She came up with an ingenious form that would absorb all of the pertinent information in a relative way, and classify it for access and sorting. Essentially, we were to treat the form as a questionnaire about each piece of evidence that we picked up, no matter what its basic form was. It was simple, but it was genius.
“Well, somebody’s having a gold star day!”, Lori told her winking.
“Yes, she is.”, I stated. “Now, it’s up to us to play this hand well.”
“I know about playing the hand!”, Rosita chimed up, from the kitchen area.
“Cantina?”, I asked.
“Si, cantina.”, she responded. “Do not worry, mi amante. Your fantastic women, will play it well for their fine man.”, she announced. “And, for ourselves!”, she quipped.
Chapter Four
The Surprise
Not all surprises start out that way.
Working on the boxes of documents, had our team refocused, and time flew by. Eventually, Lori noticed that it was about time to start getting ready for our formal dinner date with Al.
“Hey, Cowboy, it’s about time for us to start getting prepared for dinner. What about that surprise that you mentioned. What happened to that?”
“Oh, I got so focused on processing all this info that I forgot about the surprise!”, Sasha spoke up.
“How could we forget a surprise that Tagg comes to us with?”, Rosita asked. �
�His surprises are always extraordinario!
“Well, somewhere under all of these file folders and papers are three dish towels from the kitchen.”, I commented. “And underneath those, are three little gifts. One set for each of you.” The women started scrambling, and throwing papers and folder about. “Hey, hey, hey!”, I yelled with increasing loudness. They all stopped searching and froze where they were. “I do have a confession to offer before you dig out the prizes.”, I told them. “I didn’t actually, see these in a window and think of the three of you and buy them. In fact, I’ve had to get an advance from Al to keep up our operating expenses. But, I was calling in a debt, that a former family friend continued to struggle to abate. And, I ordered these sets, as partial compensation of his debt. Rather than sell them at off market prices, I decided to make a gift of them to you three. Now, please don’t throw all of our work into disarray in digging out the little gifts. But, by all means, please have back at the search!
Finally, they orderly uncovered the dishtowels, then gingerly lifted them from the pearl sets.
“Oh, Cowboy! They’re gorgeous!
“Oh, que elegante, amante!”
“Babe! They’re beautiful!”
Each of them picked up a necklace or earring set and they all began talking at once.
“We’re all going to wear these tonight with our gowns!”, Lori announced decisively.
“We are all going to look so fucking hot with these!”, Sasha added.
“Hot and elegante!”, Rosita added. And, the chatter continued for another thirty seconds or so. Then suddenly, I had all three women trying to put their arms around me and kiss me, at once. It was a little crazy, but it definitely wasn’t an unpleasant experience. I finally emerged from the bundle with a nice warm fuzzy feeling. Which, was a whole lot better feeling than I had just an hour or so earlier, after learning that Sam Milinni’s sister had gotten so close to getting her clutches into Al. It was her inability to fully hide the true nature of her personality, that likely tipped Al off. A thief by any other name is still a thief. And, a haughty, self-entitled bitch is still, a haughty, self-entitled bitch!
