by Peg Brantley
now your family.” And Sedona. He
looked up. “I’m sorry, man. I had no
right to involve you in this.”
Darius moved to the dresser and
poured two glasses of scotch. “I would
have been pissed if you hadn’t. This is
still something I want to be involved
with if I can. But I need to do it from the
sidelines. From Aspen Falls. I can’t risk
my family.”
“What time’s your flight? Do you
have time for one last brainstorm?” Darius handed Mex a glass. “We
have time. Let me fill you in on my
meeting with Cade. By the way, I owe
her an apology so it might be a bit sticky
when you first talk with her again.” Mex took a breath. “Given your
afternoon, I can get why there might have
been some friction. I’ll handle it.” They went over the information
they’d gathered during the day, Darius
with far more to offer than Mex.
Especially via Cade. Cade LeBlanc was
looking more and more interesting and
Mex wasn’t quite sure how he felt about
that.
After refilling the glasses, Mex
and Darius sat back in their chairs. A
comfortable moment of silence passed before Mex spoke. “If you’re not down with this, with being a research source for me, I get it. I do. I’ll still get you as much of the story as I can for your
book.”
“Thanks, man. I think that maybe
my bailing on you tonight might signal
the assholes responsible for the threats
that I’m out of the picture. Safe. Off their
radar. I’m pretty sure I can handle the
situation once I’m home where I’ll have
a better feel for what’s going on. And I
still want to be there for you. I’ll pick up
a disposable phone tomorrow and get in
touch.”
Mex respected the choice Darius
had to make. He also recognized that he
was losing some important backup. Things could easily go south.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The Diviner settled onto her mat. The jicara was filled with water, the gourd carefully balanced on her divination surface. A lit cigar wafted its pungent fragrance into the air as it sat on the plate next to the candle. All of her other ibó were scattered around her; the eight symbolic items needed to gain a reading. Her fingers trailed through the white powdery chalk of efun, a smooth black stone, two bound cowries, a seashell, a piece of bone, a guacalote seed, a doll’s head, and a piece of broken china.
Regardless of her client’s
seemingly aloof and casual attitude about the necessity for him to get to Honey Island Swamp, she knew it was critical he be there. And so did he. She’d already made her own travel arrangements.
The Diviner could not control the choices of others, and that included her powerful client. What she feared was that he would not respond appropriately, and her divinations would be in error. The position of her client meant that her life could be in jeopardy, regardless of whether the negative results were because of his actions, or lack of action. It might not matter that she had made it clear that he was the one who could alter the outcome.
She prayed the mojuba, naming herself and invoking her ancestors. She was desperate to know the course that would serve her best. The tightening she’d been feeling in her chest needed release, needed assurance, needed the proper resolution only Santeria could provide. Tomorrow morning she would sacrifice the goat she’d procured that afternoon. The one that stood tethered and bleating under the shade tree in her yard. She needed the potent divinity the killing could afford her.
Forty-five minutes later, she pushed off the floor and reached for her phone. She punched in one number and waited. She sat in a chair, crossed her legs and her foot began pumping the air as she listened to what she considered the meaningless and impersonal message when someone isn’t available—for whatever reason. She hated voicemail.
“You need to listen to me. I will be at the Honey Island house tomorrow. You must be there. Cut your other business short. I’ve performed some divinations tonight to confirm my earlier position and nothing has changed. The girl might be there whenever you decide to pay attention, but I can’t guarantee the results will be what you’re looking for.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dia sat quietly in the corner of the deck. Her direct questions got her nowhere. She had figured out that she could learn a lot more if her new family forgot she was there. In that way it wasn’t too different from her old one.
Luis paced in circles. His arms flew up in the air and then down to his sides as he spoke to Pilar who was sitting on the bench swing. Dia couldn’t understand all of the words—they were speaking a mix of English, Spanish and Cajun—but she understood enough of them to know that where they were was supposed to be a secret. She couldn’t figure out how someone asking Luis’s grandmother how he was doing could be such a threat and thought maybe some of the words she didn’t know probably explained the problem.
Pilar let Luis walk in his silly little circle until it seemed like maybe he’d come to the end of his rant. Then, her voice soft, she spoke. “It will all be fine, my love.” She reached up and placed her hand on his arm. At her touch, Luis crumpled next to her on the swing. “The Diviner will be here soon and it will all be over. We will be able to move on with our lives and have the freedom to make decisions for
ourselves.”
“What if we’re wrong? What if something happens?”
“We aren’t. It won’t.”
Dia knew about diviners. They were the ones who knew how to tell what the future held. Only a few people were true diviners. There were a lot of fakes who got lucky or who knew how to lie well enough that no one could exactly blame them. But if Pilar was talking about a diviner, Dia knew this one had to have some genuine power.
Dia also took to heart the idea of moving on and having more freedom. The images that flashed through her mind cheered her. The promise of a real future with her friends made her smile. She pictured herself and Pilar sitting around a dining room table loaded with food. They’d celebrate holidays together, and Luis and Hector would be there along with other faceless, as yet unknown, friends. Dia knew there would be a lot of people there who enjoyed being around each other. Completely different than her old home. At least since her mom died.
Hector stepped out onto the deck. When he got Luis’s attention he gave a jerk of his head toward the front of the house where the car was parked. Luis said something to Pilar and the two men were gone.
Pilar rubbed her arms as if she were cold and stared off into the swamp. Pilar had told Dia the names of all of the swamp’s trees they could see, but the only two she could remember were cow oak trees and turkey oak trees. She’d never heard of a tree named after an animal or a bird before.
Pilar turned and saw Dia. “Sit by me. I have a swamp story to tell you.”
“Where are Luis and Hector going?”
“Our guests have begun to arrive. Luis is meeting them in Slidell.” Pilar shifted on the bench. “Come. I will tell you about the Honey Island Swamp Monster.”
“A monster?”
“Yes. A real one.”
Dia looked across the water to the turkey trees. “Here?” She squinted. Did she see something?
“Yes, here.”
Dia moved quickly to sit as close to Pilar as possible. Her friend’s arm around her shoulders made her feel better. Protected. Safe. “Okay. Tell me.”
“Are you sure?”
Dia nodded but snuggled closer.
“There is a creature who has long lived in this part of the swamp. He’s part Cajun and part Indian and part something else. Many folk have seen him, some closer
than others.”
“Something else? What kind of something else?”
Pilar gave a little smile. “The monster is tall, seven feet at least, and walks almost like a man. He’s four hundred pounds of fury and stealth, able to hide for decades in the bowels of Honey Island without being killed by a hunter or a gator. He’s covered with short gray hair, all over his body. Everywhere except for his face. The hair on his head is also gray, but long.”
“Does he have fangs?”
“No one knows for sure. But he does have razor-sharp claws on his feet. Claws that can rip flesh with ease.”
“Is there only one of him?”
“Not according to those who’ve seen the tracks.”
“Have you seen him?”
“I’ve seen movement and
shadows. And I’ve heard noises that aren’t part of any normal voices of the swamp. I believe these creatures are around. I believe they see us easier than we see them.”
Dia shivered.
“Do not worry, sweet Dia. We are working with our Santeria orishas to keep us safe.”
“You and Luis?”
Pilar blinked, then nodded. “Yes. Me and Luis. You are not to worry. But now you know about our new rituals.”
“And the guests? Are they a part of the rituals?”
“Yes, my darling. They are very important to the ceremony for which we are preparing.”
“Will you let me be there this time?” Dia thought about watching her new family chanting around the fire the other night without her. The image of Pilar holding her shoes while the flames bounced and sparked into the night tucked into her head.
“Of course. We will make sure and include you.”
* * * Sedona sat in a chair out on the lanai and sipped her mojito. She was in VV’s home and not Vicente’s, so she could relax a little. Relax? What the hell was she thinking? She was being held here against her will and even now her feet were lashed to a post, the padlock mocking her.
She’d had a lot of time to think. To remember. Dia was a wonderful, happy little girl who adored her brother and her mother. Sedona had been in and out of their lives in Monterrey. They were both great kids with a devoted mother. She couldn’t say the same about Vicente Vega.
She could understand why Dia might run away but it had been too long. Vicente Vega would have found his missing daughter within hours after he’d been told of her disappearance. He had an army of skilled and persuasive people at his disposal. Someone either helped her or kidnapped her. Either way, she was a little girl who had been protected all of her life and would not be equipped to deal with any kind of reality.
“Can I get you anything else?” VV’s trusted housekeeper walked toward her. “I am sorry for the safety measures,” she pointed to the padlock.
“Do you know Dia?” “She has been around.” The housekeeper’s tone was wary.
“Do you know what’s happened to her?”
“She’s missing.”
“Yes. And that’s why I’ve been taken. I’m here until my brother can find Dia.”
“That’s my understanding.”
“Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that? I mean, I haven’t done anything wrong and my brother is only trying to help.”
“It is not my place.”
Sedona clenched her jaw. “It is not your place? Not your place? You have been under the Vega family thumb for far too long. Can’t you frigging think for yourself?”
“You misunderstand. It is not my place to judge the Vega family any more than it’s my place to judge the Anderson family.” The housekeeper paused. “Do you understand now, Miss Sedona?”
Sedona stared at the woman and wondered where their conversation had gone wrong, but she didn’t want to ask. “I would like some paper and a pen.”
“I’m sorry. I cannot provide you with any means to communicate.
Anything else to eat or drink? That I can assist you with. Mr. Vega sent one of the other housemaids to buy some clothing for you. Of course, she doesn’t know why. I will bring the clothes up to you for your approval when she returns.”
She was a prisoner. In elegant and comfortable surroundings—but a prisoner.
“First, I need to use the bathroom, and then I’d like another mojito if you don’t mind.”
“Certainly.”
Might as well get drunk.
Oblivion. Kind of like when she was younger.
Sedona held her hands behind her back to be tied until they reached the bathroom. Her hands would be bound before her feet were released. She would be locked in the room until she knocked on the door, the housekeeper waiting there for her to repeat the process. Strange how quickly she’d gotten used to the loss of her freedom, the routine of her restraints. Three days? Four at the most? She wasn’t sure she liked what that said about her
personality.
On the way back to the
peacefulness of the lanai, VV stormed into the hallway. “Get her to her room. Lock her down. Lock the windows. No more moments for pleasantness.”
The housekeeper’s face showed a brief moment of surprise but was replaced with one of quick compliance. “Yes, sir.”
“Why, VV? What has happened?”
“Your brother’s arrogance cannot be taken out on him at this moment, but I can make you pay. No one, no one, hangs up on me.”
“Were you just speaking to my brother? Is he close to finding your sister?”
“His disrespect for me has expressed itself and I’ve decided what price is appropriate. I’ve been
considering how to handle it. From this point forward you will not leave your room. If your brother displays some recognition of my position that might change.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
VV’s slapped her face so fast she didn’t have any time to react. The sting brought color to her cheek where he’d connected, and tears to her eyes.
“I’d forgotten how impudent you could be.”
She bent her cheek to her
shoulder. “Impudent? I think you mean strong.”
VV hit her again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
After Mex dropped Darius off at the airport he called Cade. He was going to need some local backup and he wanted to see if it could come from this woman he’d just met, or if he’d have to find it elsewhere.
“LeBlanc.”
“Hey, it’s Mex Anderson.” He could hear her hesitate. “Darius is gone?”
“Yeah, but he needed to go home.” Mex surprised himself by defending his friend.
“I’m afraid we didn’t part on the best of terms and I regret that. I hope the two of you are okay.”
“We’re cool. Can we meet for a drink? I want to make sure we’re both up to date and be sure my next move is a good one.” That won’t get anyone killed, he added to himself.
“Yeah, it would be good if you didn’t get yourself killed.”
Mex sucked in a surprise of air. The coincidence was a little eerie. Having someone echo his thoughts was disconcerting. But he was tired.
Everything seemed a little eerie.
“Great. Boudreaux’s? An hour? Will it be open?” He knew better than that. The first time they’d met at the crab shack it had been hours after closing.
“I’ll meet you there.”
On his way to meet Cade he thought about his sister. For the first time Mex considered how sad it was that probably nobody else would miss her. Her life had revolved around him for years. As much as she looked after him, he’d also taken care of her ever since the murders. Even so, they’d always led pretty independent lives. But everything changed for both of them in one
afternoon.
Before the bitter darkness could take hold, Mex had another thought. He wondered if anyone would miss him if he went missing. Panic hit first and then he realized that Darius or Chase Waters would eventually know something was up. They spoke every week or two on a regular basis. If he didn’t show up at Juan’s after
a few days, the bar owner would probably get curious, along with members of the Hispanic community in Aspen Falls who relied on Mex to be their unofficial lawman and mediator. Surely someone would ask questions.
Close call, Anderson. He made the mental commitment to connect with more people when he got back to Aspen Falls. Probably.
Well, maybe.
* *
Mex pulled into what had become a familiar parking lot. Cade wasn’t there yet, but he could see The Mountain waiting at the door. He wondered if Amazon Man worked for Cade or the owner of the restaurant. He suspected the latter. If the owner was willing to keep his place available for Cade LeBlanc to meet people, he cared about her. And if he cared about her, he was going to provide security. She was involved in a business that required a certain level of force some people might find objectionable.
He threw the transmission into park. Maybe, if he worked it right, he could find out a little bit about Cade from these people who knew her. He sat a moment while he figured out his best approach.
Mex stuffed the keys into his jeans and smiled at the giant bouncer. “Hey, man. Good to see you. I’m a little early.” He walked up the steps. “Can I buy you a drink?”
The mountainous man grunted. Mex kept talking as he walked past the armed gorilla. No pat down this time. No confiscation of his weapon. Mex had moved one step up the ladder. “It’s been one helluva day. How ‘bout you? Yours okay?”
Another grunt, but the big guy followed him into the restaurant. To the right was a large room that housed the main bar. Mex walked in and sat on a stool. An older man with long gray hair pulled into a ponytail stood behind the bar, polishing glasses.
Mex looked at the huge man. “What would you like?”
The bartender spoke without looking up. “Little Ray likes my Cajun martinis.”
“One for, um, Little Ray, and one for me.”
“You used to some heat?”
“I can handle it.”
“Something you should know about your new friend here.”
“Yeah?”
“Liquor won’t loosen his tongue none. If anything, he gets quieter.” The bartender put two martini glasses on the bar. “Figure you might’ve had a different expectation.”
