“This is my least favorite part,” Wayne said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it with a match and said, “I’ll go get the bill while the boys pack up.”
“If I’d been on the roof all day, that would be my favorite part,” I said.
He took a long drag on the cigarette. He couldn’t have been more than ten years older than me, but he already had deep-set wrinkles around his eyes, no doubt from baking in the sun. “This is usually the time when folks cuss me to pieces—when I’m driving away.”
I took the cups to the kitchen while the roofers loaded their gear into the pickup. The two younger men climbed in the back and popped a couple of beers while Wayne pulled a shirt on and strolled over to the porch to bring me the bill.
The rot had cost much more than I’d planned for, but it seemed fair. Especially since they’d stayed through the hottest part of the day to finish on time. When Wayne fell through the roof, I thought for sure the bill would double, if not triple, but Jack must have worked a little magic on them after all. Maybe there was something to be said for knowing a fella who was in the boys’ club.
“Thanks for doing it so quickly,” I said, writing him the check.
“No problem. A friend of Jack’s is a friend of mine.”
He tucked the check in his back pocket and touched the brim of his hat. “You call if you should need anything else,” he said, and strode back to the truck.
I walked to the back of the house and stared up at the roof. The sun was just sinking below the roofline, making it difficult to examine the work, but I could see that the new patches of shingles had blended nicely. As I picked up a few stray pieces in the yard, the dog came around the corner of the house and let out a half-hearted bark. She stared off into the swamp, and when I followed her gaze, I saw movement down in the cypress grove. At first I thought it was a trick of the sunlight, but then I noticed a shape that looked like a person. A person who was skulking.
I took a few steps toward the tree line. Shadows from the cypress limbs moved on the ground like serpents. The way the light played on the bark made it impossible to tell what was real and what was not.
Then the figure dashed out from the brush and slipped into the cover of trees. There was no mistaking the silhouette this time—tall, lanky and two-legged.
“Hey!” I yelled. The head turned in my direction for a split second, and then the figure was gone. The dog bolted to the grove, barking as her feet thudded in the grass. I followed, not thinking of who I might find when I caught up with her. My ankle throbbed after a few steps, but still I ran. It could have been a teenager or someone out fishing in the creek, but I had a feeling it was more sinister than that. Pain shot through my foot with every step, and finally I stopped a few yards short of the tree line. Whoever it was had vanished into the swamp.
The dog’s barking was fainter now. There were tracks in the mud, big holes where feet had sunk down deep. I hopped from one patch of weeds to another to keep my own feet from sinking. I whistled for the dog but didn’t see her. The forest was swallowing the last bits of the afternoon, the insects already humming as the fading light lured them out. Calling once more for the dog, I turned and limped back to the house, wishing I didn’t have to spend the night there alone.
Inside, I ran myself a hot bath and dialed the station using Jack’s cell phone. Then I hung up. I leaned back against the tile, thinking of how adamant he’d been. I dialed again, and when he answered, I told him about the roof being finished. Then I told him about the person in the swamp.
“I’m coming back. I’ll get one of the guys to cover for me.”
“You don’t need to do that. I’m fine.”
He insisted, stubborn as a goat. But I knew he needed the money.
“Really,” I said. “I’ll be OK.”
There was a long pause. Then muttering that was half French.
“Please promise me you’ll stay inside,” he said finally. “Do not go outside again.”
“Fine.”
“I mean it, Enza. Promise me.”
“OK, OK. I promise.”
“Call the police if you see anything else.” The chill in his tone made me shiver in the warm water.
~~~~
Even though I knew it would keep me up all night, I searched the Internet for anything related to voodoo. By dark, I’d combed through dozens of websites, scrolling through shopping lists for spells, instructions for incantations, and a variety of price lists for anything from simple consultations to all out lay-the-whammy-on-you rituals. Most sites were clamoring for business from the lovesick and the frightened. But every once in a while I came across one that wasn’t meant for amateurs, or vengeful lovers, or people looking to get even. A few offered some history of voodoo and explained what some of the things that had turned up in the yard might mean. This also gave me the chance to check facts against what Duchess had told me. So far, she was right in line with the more reputable online practitioners, which was equal parts reassuring and unsettling. Yeah, she seemed to be the real deal—but who wanted these things to be real?
There was a thump on the porch, and my whole body jerked. When it happened again, I realized it was the dog. She pawed at the screen door, banging it against the frame.
“For heaven’s sake, dog,” I said, trudging to the door. “You nearly scared the life out of me.”
She peered through the screen, tongue lolling. When I didn’t unlatch it fast enough, she pushed the door again.
“I’m coming already.” I opened the door, and she bounded inside, skidding on the floor as she ran into the living room and dove onto the couch.
“You’d better enjoy your last few days of this,” I said.
As I walked back into the kitchen, I heard Jack’s phone vibrating on the counter. Pulling a beer out of the fridge, I ignored it, but then it went off again. After it buzzed a third time, I thought it might be Jack trying to call me.
I pressed the button on top and saw it was text messages. The first said, miss you baby, wish you were here. I flushed, thinking about how his hands had roamed over my body the day before. Try as I might to deny it, something about that man made me want more than a casual fling. I scrolled down.
I think about u all the time, the second said. I grinned.
The third said, Want to know what i’m thinking right now?
He must have borrowed a friend’s phone. I quickly typed back, Do tell.
I stared at the screen, waiting. Then it buzzed. Why don’t u come here and i’ll show u.
“If only,” I said, and typed, Somehow I don’t think the fellas would like that.
The screen lit up. Fk em. I need you more.
I stared for a minute.
Don’t make me start without u baby, it said.
I liked Jack’s naughty side. An image of us in the firehouse flashed through my mind. My heart beat faster.
U have a fire that needs putting out? I typed.
There was an agonizing pause. Such a tease, this man.
Come see 4 yrself, it said.
No fair getting me all riled up, I typed, when you can’t put yr hands all over me.
Come over, it said. I’ll put them anywhere u want.
My skin tingled from the memory of his touch. Before I could answer, it buzzed again. R u hard yet? Better get over here b4 u miss all the fun.
I stared for a moment, confused. Then I felt sick.
The phone buzzed again. Come rescue me, it said.
I started to type again, and then stopped and touched the “call” button.
“Hey, baby,” a woman’s voice said. “I knew you missed me.”
My throat tightened.
“I hope you’re on your way over,” she said.
It was Miranda. I was sure of it.
“Jack?” she said. “Are you there?”
I hung up, feeling like someone had punched me in the gut. What if she came over here looking for him? Could I call the police and have them arrest her?
<
br /> The phone rang, and I pushed it across the table. I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t want to find out what Miranda would do next. Jack would be at the station two more nights. One more full day. If I called him, he’d insist on coming home. If he didn’t, he’d worry himself sick all night, and if he was called out to a fire, he didn’t need to be thinking about me.
I should have been able to handle this on my own—especially since I’d gotten myself into this mess by answering those stupid texts. Pretending to be naughty never got me anywhere. Ever.
The phone buzzed with another text, and I picked it up, my hand shaking.
Wtf?? it said.
It rang again, and I tossed it into the sink and grabbed my keys. I didn’t know where to go, but I couldn’t stay in the house. Outside, the air was still like the inside of an oven. I climbed into the Jeep and rolled the windows down. The tires squealed as I punched the gas, grinding my way down the drive. I turned onto the two lane highway, heading south toward New Orleans. I passed a couple of the local restaurants and the bar where I’d had that run-in with Remy. With my luck, if I walked into any place that was open around here, I’d walk right into Miranda. Or worse, Remy. That was the thing about small towns—you couldn’t avoid people when you needed to.
Then I thought of Josie and Buck, and turned the Jeep around.
~~~~
I stood at their front door, my stomach in a knot. When I rang the bell, Josie answered.
“Enza,” she said. “What a surprise. Come on in.”
“I’m sorry to show up unexpected, but I’m sort of in a predicament,” I said, following her inside.
“Is Jack OK?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“Oh! Yes. Sorry. He’s fine, but I’ve got this situation where I don’t—I can’t be alone at the house tonight, and Jack’s at the station. I hate to ask, but is there any way I could stay with you?”
“Of course you can, sweetie.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulders just as Buck walked in.
“Is there something we can do?” she asked. “Jack said y’all had trouble with the roof.”
I shook my head, feeling like I might cry at any second—partly from fear and embarrassment and partly from relief.
“Everything OK, Enza?” Buck asked.
Josie told him what I’d said. She looked more serious, like she knew this had nothing to do with troublesome repairs. “Come on upstairs,” she said to me. “We’ll get you situated in the spare room.”
“What’s the kid done now?” Buck asked.
“Hush,” Josie told him, turning me toward the stairs.
The spare room was cozy, painted pale green with light wood trim. It was filled with antique furniture, most notably an old trunk with leather straps. I made a mental note to ask her later where she’d found such a piece. A double bed was made up with a patchwork quilt, a framed print of Audubon’s blue herons hanging over the headboard.
Josie pointed out the bathroom, then opened the dresser drawer and pulled out an oversize T-shirt. “You can sleep in this, and I’ll get you a toothbrush.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, giving her a hug. Her perfume smelled like lily of the valley.
“Oh, honey,” she said, patting my back. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
She didn’t ask any questions, and part of me hated to confess that I’d been careless. There was no way to explain it that didn’t involve Jack. And it didn’t seem right to tell them this had to do with Miranda. Whether they knew about her or not, I had no business talking about Jack’s ex-girlfriends.
Still, I felt bad being so mysterious. It was bound to make them think things were much worse than they were.
“Why don’t you come downstairs and let me make you a toddy,” Josie said. “I’ve got six kinds of Kentucky bourbon, and every one of them will knock you out like a hammer.”
Chapter 14
The smell of coffee and butter woke me up, and I felt completely disoriented. It took me a full minute to realize I wasn’t in North Carolina, and I wasn’t at Vergie’s either. A thick curtain covered the tiny window, making it impossible to judge the time by the light in the room. When I drew the drapes, the brightness surprised me. I threw my clothes on and went down to the kitchen.
“Hey, sunshine,” Buck said. “Sleep well?” He was frying bacon and sausage, and sipping a glass of orange juice.
“Like a brick. Josie was right about the toddy.”
Josie turned from her scrambled eggs. “Morning, hon. We’re just about ready here. Help yourself to coffee.”
I poured myself a cup and sat at the table, watching them reach over each other, seamlessly making breakfast together. I felt bad for not telling them what was going on, but how could I?
Josie brought two plates to the table and sat next to me. Buck followed with a tray of biscuits.
“Jack called a little while ago,” Josie said to me. “He asked you to call him back at the station. He said not to wake you.”
“How’d he know I was here?”
“Said he couldn’t get you on his cell,” Josie said. “He asked Buck to go check on you, but we told him you were here.”
“You told him I was OK?”
“Yes, but he was worried. He wanted to know what happened to make you come over.”
“Not that we aren’t pleased to have the company,” Buck said.
I smiled. “It seems silly this morning.”
They looked at me, curious. I tore into a biscuit and said, “What do y’all know about voodoo?”
They listened as I told them about all the things we’d found in the yard. I left out the part about Miranda and the casserole, but I told them I’d seen someone skulking around the house and that the tires on my Jeep had been slashed.
“Who in the world would do such a thing?” Josie said.
Buck raised his eyebrows.
“It came to a head last night,” I said. “The more I thought about it, the more nervous I was about staying there alone. But it’s probably nothing. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“Doesn’t sound like nothing to me,” Buck said. “I don’t put much stock in voodoo, but hoodlums are a different story.”
“Nonsense,” Josie said. “It’s no bother. You’ll stay here until Jack’s off duty.”
“Oh no. I’ll go home today. I’ll be fine.”
“I insist,” Josie said. “You can help me make the bourbon balls for the Daughters of the American Revolution luncheon tomorrow. It’d help me out tremendously, since Buck’s way of helping is to taste them until there’s none left.”
Thinking of going back to Vergie’s made my heart thump so hard I felt it in my ears. The workaholic part of me was screaming to get my lazy ass back to the house and get back on task. But another part of me, the part that couldn’t forget Miranda’s breathy voice and unwanted house calls, insisted it was smarter to stay away. I wasn’t exactly afraid of Miranda, but I’d prefer to not be at the house alone if she felt the need to stop by.
“I’d be happy to,” I told Josie. “I’ve never made bourbon balls.”
“Oh, your world’s about to change,” she said. “Just wait and see.” She slid a plate of eggs and sausage in front of me. “Now have some breakfast and fortify yourself. This is serious business we’re getting into.”
~~~~
I called the station, hoping Jack wouldn’t be able to talk and I could leave a message. But the guy who answered called out for him, and Jack picked up, breathless.
“What’s happened?” he asked. “Are you OK?”
“I’m fine. I just freaked out. It was nothing.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“Obviously it’s not nothing.”
“I’ll tell you everything when you get home.”
“Tell me now.”
“Jack,” I said, trying to keep my voice down, “it’s fine, really. I’m staying at Josie and Buck’s tonight, and I’m good.”
“Toni
ght too? Enza, tell me what happened.”
“Miranda sent some texts, and it just rattled me. That’s all.”
“What?” His voice was louder. “Did she come over there?”
“No, but I thought she might, so I came here.” I peeked into the kitchen. “Listen, I have to go make bourbon balls for the DAR luncheon. Break a leg, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Say what?”
I hung up quickly, despite his protests.
Josie poked her head around the corner, holding a bottle of bourbon in one hand and another frilly apron in the other. “Hey,” she said. “You ready to get this show on the road?”
“Absolutely.”
As it turned out, bourbon balls were the most miraculous thing I’d ever seen made in a kitchen. I followed Buck’s method, which was to taste and re-taste. We had to make several extra batches because of all our sampling, but also because Josie said Jack would throw the tantrum from hell if I didn’t take some back for him. By dinner time we had every cookie tin and plastic container in the kitchen filled with bourbon balls.
“You know,” Josie said, “I’m glad you’re here. It’s great to see you fixing up Vergie’s house. It’s good for Jack too.”
I wasn’t sure what he’d told her about our arrangement and if she knew the house was going on the market.
“He’s been a huge help,” I said. “Just about everything that could have gone wrong has. I’m lucky he’s here.”
“He’s good that way. He’s a fixer, he is.” She smiled a knowing smile. “He’s lucky too, though. He’d given up on finding a nice gal.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I blurted, “Oh, we’re just friends.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I mean, Jack’s great,” I added. “But we’ve just got a business arrangement.”
She smiled again, like she didn’t believe that for a minute.
~~~~
When I left the next morning, bourbon balls in tow, Josie said, “Now you come back anytime, hon. With or without Jack.”
Bayou My Love: A Novel Page 16
