by D. A. Bale
“Good folk? You mean trespassers.”
“What?”
“You’re standin’ on my land, Miss Bohanan.”
“I’ve seen a survey that begs to differ,” I returned.
“The boundary dispute was settled years ago,” he said, “long before I bought this property.”
“Which was?”
In my frustration, I struggled to keep Janine upright. For a woman tilting the scales at a hundred and ten pounds, she sure grew heavy.
Hmm. Maybe there was something to water weight. No wonder my pants got tight nearer the monthly mayhem.
Speaking of my pants, they started buzzing with an incoming call. My hands were far too occupied at present to worry about it.
Lucas shot a glance at Janine as her eyes fluttered, and she started coming around with a moan. “Is she gonna be okay?”
“She’ll be fine.” Though I was concerned my back wouldn’t make it at this rate. “But you’re ignoring the question. When did you buy this property?”
“If you must know, about two years ago,” Lucas said, dragging over the plastic tarp. “It might be easier if you laid her down.”
If she hadn’t been half out of it, Janine would’ve appreciated the chivalrous gesture – at least more than I did. Though when settling her down, my aching back reconsidered. A few seconds later, Janine opened her eyes and looked up into Lucas’ before her face flushed from pasty white to rose red.
“Wh-what happened?” she asked, propping up on her elbows.
As I sat on a moist mound to cradle her head in my lap, Lucas pressed her to lie down again with a hand to her stomach. “It’d be a good idea if you’d stay still for a second. The humidity seems to have gotten to you.”
I snorted. “You mean her imagination ran away with her.”
‘Course I wasn’t going to admit my own imagination had me seeing spooks and specters for a second as well – and I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d seen A Christmas Carol, the stage or the multitude of movie versions. Charles Dickens had one hell of a vivid imagination and a lot of nerve to create such a character as Jacob Marley and his rattling chains.
When Janine’s focus zeroed in on where Lucas’ hand rested on her belly, I thought she was gonna pass out again, which surprised me since my bestie and her fellowship of pious purveyors were big believers in the practice of laying on of hands.
Then again, the sperm donor was a big believer of such a practice too. ‘Cept in his case it took the meaning to a whole different level of misunderstanding. His portfolio of photographic attempts provided all the clarification you’d ever need.
But I digress.
The staring contest before me continued until I felt the air around us rise in temperature – or maybe that was Janine’s soggy hair in my gooey lap. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the Florence Nightingale effect underwent a test right before my eyes – and wouldn’t that make Charlotte happy. Time to get this meeting back on track.
“So Lucas,” I started, “you were explaining that you’ve owned this land now two years?”
Lucas tore his gaze away. “Um, yes. That’s right.”
“Why?”
Janine stirred and sat straight up. “Wait, you own this parcel with the overseer’s house?”
Lucas nodded. “After the hurricane pretty much wiped out the family property in Chalmette, I figured it was time for me to lay down my own roots.”
“And you chose to root around next door to one of your family’s biggest oil competitors?” I questioned.
“It’s not like that.”
Janine stood – with my help, of course – and we both gave the usurper the evil eye, though from the reactions I typically got it usually came across more like I had to stifle a fart or something. But from present vantage, Janine had been practicing.
“Then why did you purchase this land, Mr. Monette?” my bestie demanded. “Is this one of the things Vicki suspected you of hiding?”
From the back-and-forth darting of his eyes, it appeared more like he watched a tennis match instead of sized up the female forces coming against him.
“I like history,” he finally admitted with a shrug. “And this area contains a rich representation of it, what with the overseer’s house still standing and the footings still present of so many of the slave quarters. I’ve thought about rebuildin’ examples of some of the quarters from old pictures, fixin’ up the house and seein’ if I could get it on the historical register to offer tours someday.”
“Tours?” My jaw almost bounced off the tarp as hinges loosened.
Janine’s face brightened with more than feminine interest in the opposite sex as her brain kicked into high gear – and she was off to the races. “That’s a splendid idea. You know, I’ve long pondered what will happen with the family mansion once my dear grandmother passes. Of course, Mother would never consider the possibility of selling the place, though I’m sure George wouldn’t give it a second thought. But with the family business settled in Texas now, it’s concerned me what will happen to the property without someone living here, and…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Nellie,” I said. “Rein that filly in and return to the starting gate for a second. What are you talking about?”
Janine’s eyes widened as if she’d just realized I was standing there, then she grabbed both my arms. “Don’t you see? If the mansion became part of the historical registry, it would make it that much more difficult for George to sell when he gets his hands on it someday, especially if we could set it up for public tours. People just love the chance to relive the glory days of the south.”
My hands landed on my squishy hips. From water, not overindulgence. “And why do you think George is gonna get his meat hooks into the land? It could be left to you, you know.”
Now it was Janine’s turn to snort. “You really think my mother will leave this place to anyone other than her precious Georgie someday?”
“Hey, it could happen.”
Janine stared past the barbed wire at the family plot. “I just hate to think what he or anyone else will do to this place someday.”
“Yeah,” I offered with my arm draped across her shoulders. “It’ll become porn star central.”
A determined gleam sparked in her eye. “That’s something I can’t allow to happen.”
“Maybe there’s another way to ensure that it won’t,” Lucas offered, flicking on his flashlight and shining it down in the hole. “Who here wants to enter the dark lion’s den first?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Can I chalk up additional personal growth by volunteering first entry rights despite my scaredy cat ways?
In this case it’d have to be a big, resounding nope ‘cause despite her earlier obvious fear, Janine grabbed the flashlight and brushed past to allow Lucas to lower her into the pit. No questions. No fuss. No concern for spiders, snakes, or errant gators – or that Lucas might be planning to put us in the ground only to leave us there as permanent residents after having found the mysterious gold bars. After all, we were too far from the house for anyone to hear us regardless of how loud or long we yelled.
Though it occurred to me as I stepped into the rope loop he’d tied at the end that he’d exited the hole with nary a gleam of gold in his hands. Only a flashlight, which he handed to me as drizzling gray skies above disappeared.
Janine’s face glowed when I stepped around rubble – and not just from the glare of the beam. A smile of wonder stretched across her face so far, I thought it’d slide right into tomorrow.
“Look at this,” she cried, her voice echoing into the darkness.
“I’m looking, but all I see is a creepy tunnel.”
“Exactly.”
I shone the light down one side then the other. “And this excites you because…?”
A jangle signaled Lucas’ completed descent. “Because she sees the historical value.”
Again I shone the beam into the dark and saw a crumbling mass of debris block
ing one side with a massive root snaking through it from above – at least I hoped that was only a tree root.
“There’s value in a pile of dirt and bricks?” Bricks. Bricks! “Are those the gold bricks?”
“What gold bricks?” Lucas asked.
“No, it’s not gold bricks,” Janine offered. “That’s just limestone.”
“You’re excited about limestone bricks?” I asked, trying to keep my disease ridden mouth from mentioning gold again before he picked up on that nugget.
“What’s this about gold?” Lucas asked.
Nugget picked up and inspected. Would I ever gain control of what passed between my lips?
Don’t answer that.
“Wait a minute,” Lucas continued. “Are you guys followin’ that silly Civil War legend about the Union confiscatin’ gold the French supposedly got past the blockade?”
“No,” Janine and I both said together.
The echo reverberated around us and shut us all up right quick. The frustration on Janine’s face gave me the distinct impression her no was in response to my limestone question instead of Lucas’ derisive comment about us following the gold legend.
But if Lucas wasn’t looking for the Bonafeld gold, what was he doing digging such a deep hole in clue territory?
“Hey,” I said to steer us a little off topic. “Why’d you dig this gigantic hole in the first place? Don’t you know it’s not healthy to expose a tree’s roots?”
Yeah, that sounded good. I didn’t know jack about trees ‘cept judging by its size alone, this one was pretty ancient. But he didn’t need to know that.
“I didn’t dig the hole. What it looks like is that the tree roots grew through the limestone over the years and collapsed this part of the tunnel…fairly recent from what I could ascertain. With the weight of the soil on top, it was only a matter of time anyway before it all caved in and exposed this ingenious piece of history.”
I glanced around again. “What history?”
“Don’t you see?” Janine called from where she’d duck-walked down the tunnel, her flashlight hovering over the drawing she’d made. “I think this is what the lines we saw on the older survey represent.”
Lucas pressed by me. “You have a survey of this system?”
“Uh-huh,” Janine responded. “All of the family’s documents are kept at the mansion.”
“Would it be possible to stop by and see them?”
“Certainly, after we finish out here.”
While the antiquity buffs discussed their excitement over the history lesson, I crouched down to try and play catch-up. The limestone bricks were cemented with a thick coating of smooth mortar, creating a wide tube-like structure big enough to squat down and waddle through.
I ventured a guess to prove I’d paid some attention during history class when I was younger. “Was this something your ancestors built to help escaping slaves, like with the Underground Railroad?”
“When my family unfortunately kept slaves during that time?” Janine questioned. “Doubtful.”
So much for proving my acumen for olden time. “What then? Was this the precursor to running water? Are we standing in the old sewer system, waiting for the shit to hit the fan?”
No chuckles. Not even a giggle from Janine.
They came waddling back my way, hair coated with all manner of – well – crap like Lucas had earlier when he’d risen like an ethereal spook from the ground.
Lucas sent a grimy smile my way as he hooked Janine to the rope. “You’re not too far off, if my estimation is correct. But I don’t think this was used for refuse, Miss Bohanan.”
Janine nodded as Lucas started hauling her toward daylight. “We think this might be an ancient aqueduct.”
***
“Aqueducts? As in like the Romans built?” I asked, as the rear screen door slammed shut behind the three of us.
The spicy, sweet scent of an amalgamation of pies assailed my nostrils and sent my stomach into a pre-Thanksgiving swoon. Who needed turkey when there were so many sweets to be sampled? As long as there was a chocolate something-or-other thrown in there, I’d be in Heaven – or a diabetic coma.
Maisie turned around from the stove with a shriek, while the pie she held took a tumble and landed on the floor with a percussive splat. I wanted to weep when warm pudding oozed across the shining tile. So much for a chocolate-induced coma.
Maisie gave us a well-practiced evil eye like she was gonna cast some voodoo spell over our carcasses. “Land sakes. Whatch’o kids been swimmin’ in this time?”
Not chocolate unfortunately. “A mud hole,” I said. “Quite literally too.”
Sibby turned from the counter to behold the spectacle we must’ve presented. At least she was able to keep a solid hold on the bowl of lemon custard. Addie would’ve had my hide – and then some – if her favorite pie had gotten a spoiled kiss from the floor.
“Hold it,” Maisie cried with her hands raised as we started across her flour-flying kitchen. She swiped pastry-encrusted hands across her apron before rummaging through a cabinet and tugging out a couple of trash bags. “I won’t have y’all terrorizin’ my kitchen in the midst of pie bakin’. If y’all don’t want to eat that chocolate pie right off’n this floor, y’uns will return to the back porch, strip off’n those disgustin’ clothes and shoes, then take ‘em in these bags straight to the laundry room.”
Janine went five different shades of red while her voice rose about ten octaves with every word. “Strip? On the porch? Outside?”
Lucas had the decency to hide his grin by finding something fascinating on the floor.
“Sibby,” Maisie directed, “grab a couple of sheets from the laundry for the girls and a large bath towel for the gentleman.”
“Outside?” Janine whimpered again. “What’ll my mom say?”
I shoved her out the door with Lucas following in our wake while struggling to keep a straight face. “Think of the sheet like a toga.”
“A toga?”
“Yeah, something the Romans would’ve worn in Jesus’ time.”
Lucas lost the laughing battle as he spewed a loud guffaw – and this time, I doubt if his thoughts centered on aqueducts.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The toga party was short-lived after Lucas volunteered to hold the sheets so we could change on the back porch. Instead, I held Janine’s so she could strip down to her skivvies faster than two teenagers jumped apart when caught making out in the basement – not that anything like that had ever happened to her. I guess she wasn’t all that keen with the idea of going the way of Adam and Eve at the beginnings of creation.
Now me? Okay, fine. Janine held one up for me too – but only to avoid the prospect of George sneaking a peek of my flesh if he were nearby.
Apparently Lucas was familiar and comfortable with the concept and shed down to his boxers like a zombie on the brain prowl. I got a good look at the muscular offerings – until something else caught my eye when it slipped from a pocket and clattered across the wood planks. Something that glimmered and reminded me very much of the sort of thing Ranger Zeke kept strapped to his belt.
A badge.
That sped Lucas’ movements up right quick, as he scooped up the tinkling trinket and wrapped the towel high on his hips.
One-by-one, we reentered the kitchen with the offending garments in trash bags, swishing our sheets like the Roman citizens of old. I’m just glad Maisie hadn’t made us wrap the garments around our heads like the Klansmen of prejudicial days. That would’ve been just weird. Still, I felt a little odd wearing a bleached sheet around the household help, so we quickly skittered around the corner to the laundry room.
“Let’s run upstairs and change,” I urged Janine.
Janine opened her mouth, I can only assume to agree, when Lucas interrupted. “And leave me all alone wearing a towel?”
“You didn’t seem to have any trouble outside wearing only your boxers,” I returned.
“Well, what if
we run into Miss Adelaide?”
“She’ll get a heart-stopping view as a birthday present.”
“Goodness, Vicki,” Janine fluttered. “Don’t say such things.”
“Weren’t you the one talking about what to do about this place when she’s gone?” I asked.
“Yes, but that will hopefully be many more years down the highway of life.”
“Not to be mean, but the woman turns ninety on Saturday,” I offered. “The probability of joining those vital statistics…or is it un-vital in this case? Anyway, it goes up exponentially with every year that passes from this point on.”
“I’m well aware of how the math works out,” Janine huffed. “But do you really think this is an appropriate conversation topic when my grandmother is within range?”
“Hmm. Good point. I know…how about we start your first lesson in freedom by learning how to do a load of laundry?”
Janine wrinkled her nose. Guess we’d have to start those freedom lessons somewhere else.
Lucas intervened. “How about we check out those surveys you mentioned?”
“They’re in Grandpa-pa’s study,” she said, tugging on Lucas’ hand. “This way.”
Lucas tossed a smirk over his shoulder as Janine led him away. Yeah, I still wasn’t comfortable with sharing these details with a virtual stranger – a stranger who had found new and interesting avenues to worm his way into our lives. A stranger who was now a De’Laruse neighbor. A man who appeared to be trying entirely too hard to ingratiate himself to my bestie.
I stood in the open doorway, listening to the voicemail message from one Jerome Barthélémy, while Janine dragged the surveys from the credenza again. The longer I listened, the more excited I grew.
And it wasn’t from the golden Greek wanna-be god.
“Lucas, would you give us a second?”
“Excuse me?” Lucas questioned.
Janine’s innocent gaze frustrated the life out of me and about had me tearing at my hair. For a girl so wise in the ways of books, she had so little common sense sometimes when it came to the male persuasion.
