Danger Deception Devotion The Firsts

by Lorhainne Eckhart

  “He told you all kinds of things. But they were always lies, lies, and more lies. Deep down, you already know this. When you throw a stone in the water, your actions cast off a whole chain of events. Remember, whatever you do, always do it out of love, and harm none.”

  “Elise killed Leon,” Marcie said. “I heard Jesse say she was a dirty cop and that shooting Leon may not have been justifiable.”

  “Elise was always a troubled girl. She fit in good with many of the dirty cops around here.” Mama grimaced bitterly. She never broke rhythm as she rocked in her old wooden chair, back and forth. “You’d best call Sam in.”

  Marcie’s rubbery legs trembled. She gripped the back of her chair, pausing a moment to gather strength, before doing the old woman’s bidding. She pressed open the squeaky door.

  Sam leaned against the rail at the bottom of the stairs, smoking a cigarette. He flicked the butt in the dirt, exhaling, and their eyes met. When did he start smoking? There were many secrets between them.

  “She wants you to come in.”

  He started up, one by one. His heavy footsteps rattled the unsteady stairs. He froze in front of her, studying her with such an odd expression. He stepped inside and searched out his dead wife’s photo, but Marcie couldn’t make sense of what he was feeling.

  “Her memory’s returned.” Mama raised her chin when she spoke to Sam, and he swiveled his head around so fast that his caustic look burned into Marcie.

  “Why didn’t you let me tell him first?” Marcie said.

  “Don’t you get prissy now, girl.”

  “Mama, did Jesse stop here, tell you about Marcie losing her memory?”

  “I saw the boy, but I knowed she was a coming. Spirit told me.” She flicked her aged, spotted hand at Marcie. “You find the letters?”

  Beads of icy perspiration erupted down her back at exactly the same moment goose bumps spiked her tender skin. Marcie swallowed, unable to speak.

  “What letters?” Sam was genuinely confused.

  Mama grinned, a crooked smile showing her aged, chipped teeth. “Why, boy, the ones in your attic that your girl here found. She was supposed to find them.”

  The cryptic messages were beginning to unnerve Sam, and Marcie, too. He paced back and forth in front of the door, his hands shoved roughly through his damp wavy hair, leaving it sticking up in clumps.

  “What kind of bullshit are you selling me?” he snapped.

  “You watch your mouth, boy. You ain’t too big to get your mouth washed out with soap.”

  Marcie gaped at the mental image of Mama washing out the tough guy’s mouth.

  The scowl on Sam’s face was priceless. “Crazy old woman,” he muttered.

  “Pay him no mind,” Mama said. “Did you read the letters, child?”

  The stifling emotions in the room scraped like claws in Marcie’s stomach. “It broke my heart. They framed him, and they killed him.”

  “Oh no, girl, you didn’t read all of them or you’d know. Old Jerome lingered a long while, rotting in the Cabildo. He was set up, same as Sam, by the same dark entities close to him. They can be a friend, family, or acquaintance, and they know what they’re doing. They got one agenda, to destroy you, and I know you know this.” She pointed to Sam, and he frowned.

  “Old woman, you’re making no sense. What happened to that guy was over a hundred and fifty years ago. It’s got nothing to do with now. You’re confused.”

  “Oh! I don’t think so, boy. Everything has to do with now. You don’t know how the universe works. Jerome was your great, great, great granddaddy, but he’s Marcie’s guide now. Sit on down here.” Mama stilled. Her face softened as she tilted her head.

  “Mama?” Marcie asked.

  She didn’t answer for the longest time. She stared through Marcie, nodding, completely pulled into whatever spirit surrounded her. “Hmm.” Then she blinked. “Jerome’s with you now, behind you. He wants you to know his story, what happened to him.”

  She continued: “He was a lieutenant under that old pirate, Lafitte. He made his home on Grand Isle. He was right hand to Jean and Pierre. They flew the flag of Cartagena, attacking as many Spanish ships as possible. The ships they raped at sea were mostly Spanish ships. They harvested boundless booty, furniture, clothing, the latest silks, crinolines, dinnerware, wines, cheeses and medicines, even slaves.

  “Jerome was independent and loyal to Jean, even when Jean established his Village of Lafitte on Grand Terre. Jerome stayed on Grand Isle. His beautiful wife, Isabel, waited for him in the home he built. Jerome maintained he was a privateer like Jean, but unlike the others, he kept his independence. Jerome chose when to join one of Jean’s raids. Jerome didn’t trust everyone. Most of the crew were simple fishermen. There were a few who did whatever it took to get close to Jean. Jerome was smart and kept an eye out.

  “When the British paid a visit to Lafitte to bribe him into betraying the American government, Jean refused and dispatched two missives, one to the governor, the other to Andrew Jackson. Instead of accepting his help, they attacked him on his island in Grand Terre.

  “Of course, Jean and his people scrambled and regrouped on the last island on Bayou Lafourche, sixty miles west of the temple. Those close to him warned him of a traitor among them. When suspicion was pointed at Jerome, his quarters were searched onboard his Ladybird, and a missive was found detailing where Jean Lafitte and his crew could be found.

  “Jerome, of course, denied this, but Jean was too angry; he wouldn’t listen. Everyone who knew Jean understood his laws were strict. In anger, he sentenced Jerome to hang, only Jerome didn’t. Instead, while locked away in the hold, one of his lieutenants got him out. But it was a trick. The lieutenant was the traitor, and he turned Jerome over into the hands of a bounty hunter. Jerome woke up in the Cabildo. The price on his head collected, and he was left to rot. He never did get out, but he guided you to those letters, and he came in your dreams. He’s one of your guides, Marcie.

  “Your teacher asked the universe for help for you, and he’s been sent. He put you in Sam’s path because you two are supposed to be together. The one who betrayed you and him is the same enemy. It’s time for justice to be served. This enemy has come back in a different skin. It’s not a person, and it doesn’t go to the same place you and I go when we’re done here on this earth. He’s after you now, Sam. It’s your turn. He’s following the sins of the father, and he’s gone after each generation of Jerome’s descendants. Only Jerome never knew why he did it. Darkness doesn’t need a reason. The only way for a dark entity to grow stronger and survive is to destroy anything good. You need to bring his hold, his power, to an end. Your girl there knows him, too.”

  Mama rested her head against the high back rocker, humming Amazing Grace. “It’s about a repented slave catcher. He wrote it. He found religion. He saw the light,” she explained.

  Marcie looked up at Sam, still mesmerized by the woman’s voice, her speech, how it had changed. Did Sam hear it, too? She noticed how he stiffened his jaw.

  “Who’s this dark entity—this person you’re talking about?” he asked.

  She smiled wide, exposing three missing teeth. “Go back up north, where you both came from. You already know him without me telling you, Marcie. It’s your guy. And don’t forget he’s smart. He knows things—he knows how to manipulate magic for his benefit. Protect yourself—both of you.

  “And Sam, best watch your back when you return, and ask yourself what you walked away from. Something was found on you, planted. Remember when you go back and meet up with the darkness, and you will, that it flows in the blood, except it’s still a choice. You always have a choice.”

  “You make no sense, old woman, all your carrying on,” Sam said.

  Marcie shivered, feeling a slithering reptilian darkness surround her, knowing it was attached to those who sought out that vile hatred. A dark image of her dysfunctional family surfaced—her mother, father, brother. Sometimes darkness soared like poison down through
the line.

  “Don’t you fear those hooks thrown at you. If you feed fear, you give it power. I know you know this, girl. You make sure he listens; that’s why you’re here.” Mama pointed her finger at Marcie. “Don’t be ashamed. What’s done is done. You need to start trusting the voice inside yourself. Bring back hope and faith. Keep those ugly cords from cutting him. You and I both know who I’m talking about.”

  Dan.

  “Heal those holes inside you and bring back the innocence he stripped away. Go back to your lessons, to your teacher. Remember something—piracy’s still piracy. It’s not much different from what Jerome did then to what you did, too. Everything happens for a reason. You’re right in the middle of a battle. You chose to be one of the players, Marcie, and to go with that guy—to do his bidding, until Jerome stepped in. Stay strong, and do not allow his hooks back into you. That tall man, the one you thought you had, he’s not of this world. There’s nothing right about him. The light doesn’t touch him, and his darkness would have killed you. He still may. You need to watch your back. He got Jerome, and Sam’s next. You’d best get on and look after your man. He knows, even if he won’t say—he knows.”

  This made no sense, but anxiety kneaded every part of her. Dan was just a man—a man she had fallen head over heels in love with. How could he be connected to Jerome, to Sam?

  She closed her eyes to block out Dan’s image. He was poison to her peace of mind.

  Mama started humming again, staring right through Marcie. Nausea rumbled again. Marcie’d had enough and needed air. She stumbled across the plank floor and held on to the the doorframe, assaulted by a burning wave of dizziness. The bile churned in her stomach. Sam’s hand pressed awkwardly against her back. Marcie pushed the screen door open and hurried down the stairs, vomiting in the dirt.

  Sam hovered beside her, lifting her hair back from her face while she gagged and shook. Her throat burned. Her eyes watered, and her knees were weak.

  “I’ll get you some water.” She had no energy to reply, let alone look up. Sam helped her sit on the bottom step. She rested her head against the railing. The air stirred when he hurried back up the shaky steps. Marcie trembled even though beads of sweat rolled down her back. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep, except she couldn’t, because dread rose out of the unknown, the fear of what was still to come and the truth she needed to share.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “So, do you mind telling me about your long-lost memory? Oh, yeah, and how about when you planned to tell me?”

  Marcie placed the empty glass on the weathered stair beside her, letting out a heavy sigh. “When we pulled in here, you ignored me in the most hurtful way, as if I was of no importance, and what it did was open a door up here.” She tapped her finger on her head. “I started to remember every bad, vile, disgusting thing in my life, along with what I had done.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned back against the narrow handrail.

  “You may wish you’d never met me, and I expect you’ll turn your back on me once you know what I’ve done,” she said. She looked down at her trembling pale hands. “It’s not a bad drug. Everyone smoked the stuff in high school. That’s what I told myself. We grow the best in the Pacific Northwest, high-grade marijuana.”

  He didn’t laugh at her flippant remark. Instead, he covered his hands over his face and scrubbed them over his five o’clock shadow.

  “I’m sorry, Sam.”

  He dropped his hands. His gaze smoldered with disgust, as if this was the first time he truly saw her. She hurt everywhere, but she kept going. Sam deserved better.

  “Dan was our leader. I think I did it because I fell in love with him. I didn’t search it out, nor would I ever do this myself. It’s not who I am. Right after Granny died, I met Dan at one of the local farmers markets. I hadn’t seen him since high school. He took me out and came to visit me. We clicked. He listened to me while I mourned. He understood me in a way no one else could. He shared my same love of earth-based spirituality. He said he got vibes, too, just like me. But it was something more about him, this powerful charm. The air buzzed with electricity anytime he was around. And when he wasn’t…” She shut her eyes; she couldn’t finish.

  Her voice weakened when she spoke again. “Then one day he showed me his pot plants; the ones he grew for friends. There weren’t that many. Next, I was watering them because he forgot or didn’t have time. I never stopped to think how he slid me in there. All of a sudden, I watered all the time. I became the sitter. Dan became busy with other things. And I started to worry he’d leave me. I told myself that if I did this for him, maybe he’d love me just a little, maybe he’d spend more time with me; maybe this would make him so happy he’d finally commit to me. Then I thought I could change him. After all, what he was doing wasn’t so bad.”

  Sam studied her with such horror that she thought he’d leave her sitting on the rickety step and drive away.

  “But make no mistake, Sam, I chose to follow him. Mama was right, no matter what. It’s always your choice. I was obsessed with loving him, so much that I’d do anything for him. Isn’t that what you do for someone you love?”

  “Marcie…”

  She could tell he didn’t want to hear this. “Sam, stop. Please let me finish so you can understand every bad, horrible thing about me and why I did it.”

  He rested one foot on the stair above her, circling his hand in the air for her to continue. “By all means, Marcie. Oh, but first, what’s your real name?” He was angry and hurt; any whisper of trust that had existed between them was now destroyed.

  “My name is Marcienda Dawn Hollis, Marcie for short.” A hint of peace followed, even with the burden of what she’d done. “We grew pot. Do you want the exact type, all those gory details? Why not? The last batch was northern lights.” She didn’t wait for him to reply. “Doesn’t matter, does it? But it was just marijuana.”

  “Okay, stop right there, Marcie. Growing contraband for distribution and trafficking is a major criminal offense. You’re a drug dealer! What I do is put people like you in prison.”

  “Sam, I’m not a drug dealer. We grew marijuana for friends. It’s just weed, Sam. It’s not a bad drug.…” She felt the wind go out of her sails as Dan’s own soapbox came out of her mouth. What’s the big deal, Marcie? It’s just weed. “You’re right, Sam. I was a drug dealer. Dan moved me to his property, where he had the plants in an old wood shed. That was where it started. I looked after the weed he grew for himself and his friends. And yes, they paid him. I got a cut for babysitting. Dan’s a very good teacher. He actually did nothing after he taught me how to grow and cultivate. But that’s what he does. He’s a busy man, building houses. This is just a sideline. He’d tell me what to do, and I took all the risk—willingly. He always had a scheme or big idea to make money. And I hung on every word and idea, loving him. Doing anything I could for him.” Not everything.

  “Then he wanted to go bigger. He said there’d be a big payoff. And I followed. I set up all the outdoor gardens, found isolated, well-hidden spots near a good water source. It’s been a long, hot summer, almost as if he knew it would be. We have thirty gardens, and last I checked, we only lost three that someone cleared out.” Gritty degradation swept over her. Could she see through the mirage now? Yes.

  “Marketing’s done by a friend of Dan’s. Her name’s Sandra.” Even repeating her name filled Marcie’s mouth with a bitter and acidic aftertaste. “There’s something about her I hate. Dan would defend her. She had the contacts; but then, she grew up in a family of professional growers outside Sequim. She knew the buyers, and I didn’t. And you know what, Sam? Right now, I’m grateful for that. Sandra’s really good with drugs. It came naturally to her. She had indoor grow shows of her own. She has a nasty, mean streak, except with Dan. To him, she’s sweet as pie. She’d lie, cheat and steal from her own sister, but never in front of Dan. Why’s that, Sam?”

  “Marcie, I’m not interested in childish
catfights. I want to know everything you were doing, who you sold to, who the buyers are. Oh, and let’s start with the million-dollar question: What was in your backpack?”

  “My backpack was filled with marijuana, the bud from indoor crops Sandra harvested. I was to take it to baggage claim and leave it. There’d be an identical backpack sitting there. I’d leave mine and take the other. Dan told me where to go. Apparently, I was meeting Sandra’s contact. I wasn’t given a name.” The click of a double cross enlightened an agonizing truth.

  “You were transporting. Do you have any idea how long you’ll go to prison here? And, in Louisiana, baby, it ain’t no picnic. Oh, and Reggie? You tell me, right now, how he’s involved. Let’s go with the obvious. Isn’t he your contact?” Sam paced in front of her, slamming a concrete wall between them. No way could she touch him, let alone reason with him. This was all business.

  “Sam, I swear I didn’t know Reggie. I didn’t know any of the contacts, and I have a sick feeling I may have been set up.”

  “Oh, no way are you going to play that card now.”

  She touched his arm, but he shrugged her off. The look on his face ripped her heart open. He was visibly repulsed. He blurred in front of her as she fought the tears burning her eyes. “Sam, please listen. Dan was pushing me out. He became more secretive—especially after the fire.” Memories flowed faster than she could explain.

  “Fire? What the hell, Marcie?”

  “I already told you about my dream the first night here. Dan was involved in so many things, but everything was tied to drugs. After the house burned, all I did was look after the outdoor crops. Dan changed things, started working and meeting with Sandra secretly. I thought he was ending things with me, and then he surprised me with a trip to New Orleans. At first, I thought he had planned a holiday for us, but I was wrong. It was nothing more than a trip to deliver a sample of Sandra’s bud. At the airport, he surprised me. Suddenly I was going alone, and it was me who was supposed to exchange the backpack for an identical one—one that’d be at baggage claim. I willingly got on that plane for him. But, Sam, I swear I didn’t know Reggie or the guy who stole my backpack. Either they ripped me off, and that was their plan all along, or maybe Dan had a different plan.”