Vieux Carré Voodoo

by Greg Herren

  I sat up in my bed with a start, shivering.

  I was cold, so damned cold. I pulled my blankets around me. I’d never had such a horrifying vision before in my life. The Goddess had always come to me with love, even when She had a warning for me. I had always known that there were many faces, many incarnations of the Great Mother, but this? There had never been anything like it before. I was terrified. I could not get the image of the necklace of dripping and dripping heads around Her neck out of my mind.

  Please, Great Mother, please do not do this.

  But She had been insulted, defiled, and She was angry. Kali would not be denied.

  And with control of a source of uranium at stake, it would be so easy for Kali to make good on Her threats. It would be all too simple. There were so many men in this world that would relish obtaining the power of the uranium, unleashing its forces of death and destruction on the world without a care for the outcome. There were so many who would welcome the purifying fire, see themselves as holy martyrs cleansing the world by unleashing the power that would lead to its end.

  Time, as we measure it, means nothing to the universal powers. It might not happen tomorrow, but Kali was angry, and She did not make empty or idle threats.

  She was the Creator, but She was also the Destroyer.

  Thunder roared as I sat there, almost making me jump out of my skin. My laptop screen glowed in the darkness, next to me on the bed. I’d forgotten it was there, but it no longer mattered. It no longer mattered who had killed any of the people who had died thus far because of Kali’s Eye. All that mattered was finding that damned sapphire and returning it.

  Kali must be appeased, or Her vengeance would be terrible to behold.

  Rain began to fall, hard and heavy. I could hear the wind whipping and howling around the house. I tried to calm my heart rate, tried to get my terror under control. Stay calm, Scotty, I told myself over and over again. You must stay calm.

  I swallowed. The fate of the world might very well rest in my hands.

  Me. Scotty Bradley, who used to shake his ass on bars for dollar bills to pay his rent.

  The universe certainly had a strange sense of humor.

  It was not for me to question Kali. It was not for me to understand Her reasons, or why She had chosen me. It was now up to me to find the damned sapphire. And to do it, I had to be calm. I had to be rational. I had to solve Doc’s stupid riddle, and to do so, I had to have a clear head and focus.

  I took a deep breath, cleared my mind, and said a quick prayer for strength.

  I pushed the blankets off, and started to get out of my bed when I heard something just outside my window. I froze as my heart rate went back up, and listened closely.

  Someone was coming up the stairs.

  It might just be Millie, I tried to reassure myself, but in my gut I knew it wasn’t her. I’d heard Millie climb those stairs a million times, and unless she’d gained some weight, it wasn’t her. I kept listening, and cursed to myself when I remembered my gun was locked safely in my desk drawer. There wasn’t enough time to get it before whoever it was reached my door. You might not need it, I reassured myself, and besides, Colin was sleeping on the couch in the living room—and surely he had his gun within reach.

  But the storm was loud. Colin most likely couldn’t hear someone coming up the back stairs in the living room—and he was sleeping.

  I slipped out of bed and crept noiselessly to my closet. I reached inside and grabbed my baseball bat.

  I had just put my hands on it when I heard my front door open.

  Didn’t I lock it? I swore at myself.

  Thunder roared again as I heard someone moving in the hallway.

  I crept over to my bedroom door and listened as the intruder walked past my door. I turned the knob slowly and let the door ease open. I stepped into the hallway quickly, raising the bat as I—

  “Frank?”

  He turned around with a huge smile on his face. “Surprise!” He dropped the suitcase in his right hand and took a step toward me. He stopped, and the big smile faded into a frown. “What are you doing with the baseball bat?”

  I sagged against the wall in relief. The bat slid out of my hands and hit the floor with a loud crash. I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around him, and in spite of myself, I started laughing and crying at the same time. He hugged me back, stroking my back. His strong arms felt so good around me, and the warmth from his body seemed to chase the chill from my own.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered, kissing my forehead and squeezing me tighter. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, Frank—I don’t even know where to start.” I let go and smiled at him, wiping at my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  He grinned down at me. “A pipe burst in the training room. It’s going to be about two weeks before we can get back to work again, so I thought I’d surprise you and come home.” His forehead wrinkled. “Now, tell me. What’s going on?”

  “Where do I even start?” I closed my eyes and rested my head against his strong chest. I bit my lip. Oh dear, how am I going to explain Colin being here before he goes completely insane? Frank had a temper. He could keep it under control most of the time—that FBI training—but when he lost it, it was something to see. And he was sure as hell going to lose his temper the minute he saw Colin sleeping on the couch. “Um, I have a lot to tell you. Promise me you won’t get mad or do anything crazy until I tell you everything.”

  His blue eyes narrowed. “Scotty—” he said. He took a deep breath, and I could tell he was counting to ten.

  I took a deep breath, and said, “Colin’s here.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head to one side. “Oh, really? Where?”

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway. “Please, please don’t lose your temper. Stay calm, okay?” I said, reaching over and flicking on the light switch. The chandelier filled the room with light—

  —and it was empty.

  “What the hell?” I said, turning in every direction just to make sure. He was gone. The kitchen was empty. I left Frank standing there and opened the door to the spare bedroom. It, too, was empty. Now, what is— Realization dawned on me.

  Shit, shit, shit! I thought, dashing over to my desk. I pulled open the center drawer.

  I sighed in relief. The riddle was still there.

  “Now, where the hell did he go?” I scratched my head. His habit of disappearing was really quite annoying. I turned back to Frank. “He was here.”

  “I believe you. Somehow I always knew he was going to turn up again.” Frank folded his arms and shook his head. “Okay, I’m listening.” He was wearing a black sweater over a pair of jeans. Frank had always been in amazing shape, but pro wrestling training certainly agreed with him. His muscles were thicker, and his waist had narrowed a bit. The sweater was straining at the shoulder seams, and it looked like his upper arms were going to rip through the wool at any moment. He was also a lot darker—he’d told me he’d been using a tanning bed every day since he’d left.

  He looked incredible. After all this was over, we were going to have some fun.

  I put my lusty thoughts aside. “You better sit down. You want some coffee or something?”

  “I don’t need anything, thanks.” He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. “I’m fine. Come on, just tell me everything and get it over with.” He crossed his legs. He patted the sofa next to him, and gave me a wink. “Come on, Scotty, sit down and tell Hot Daddy everything.”

  He’s certainly taking this better than I thought he would, I thought, taking a deep breath and sitting down next to him on the couch. “Well—it all started yesterday”—Goddess, was it just yesterday?—“when I was on my way to the Gay Easter Parade…”

  His facial expression didn’t change at all as I went over everything that happened since I left the house yesterday in that ridiculous bunny costume. As I listened to what I was saying, t
he whole thing sounded preposterous. His jaw was clenched the entire time, and a muscle twitched just below the scar on his cheek—but other than that, he didn’t react at all. His lack of reaction made me nervous and I started talking faster and faster. “And then you came in—and he’s not here,” I concluded.

  He frowned and didn’t say anything for a few moments. He bounced his right fist on his leg, and said, “So, your visions have come back?”

  What? That was it? I stared at him. I’d been expecting an explosion, and this unnatural calm was a bit unnerving. “Um, yeah. I’ve had two for sure, and that maybe one yesterday during the parade.” I shuddered. “The one I just had—Frank, I can’t even begin to tell you how awful it was.” I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around myself. “I’ve never had one like that before.”

  He grabbed my face with both hands, and tilted my head back. “And this is where that guy stabbed you?” His voice was calm and soothing. “Thank God that was all he did.” He kissed my throat just above the scab. “Good thing I came home.” He then kissed me on the lips. “I’ve really missed you.”

  “You have no idea how many times I’ve wished you were here.” I snuggled up against him. Oh, he felt so damned good. “And Colin? You’re okay with him being in town? You’re not going to try to kill him or something, are you?”

  He looked deep into my eyes, and shook his head. “What good would that do?” He shrugged. “I decided—I thought we both decided—a long time ago that no matter what, we weren’t going to let him or what he does change us in any way, or affect who we are as people.” He shrugged. “Would I prefer he never came back? Sure. I’d prefer not to see him again, or ever speak to him. But it sounds to me like”—he hesitated for a moment—“he might need our help this time, and if all this stuff about the uranium…” He slid his arm around my shoulders and I leaned down into him. “Man, I thought I was done with this kind of shit when I retired from the FBI.” He kissed the top of my head. “And that’s really what’s important here, isn’t it? Finding that Eye sapphire and making sure terrorists don’t get a hold of that stuff?” He squeezed me again, rubbing my shoulder as he did so. “We can put our personal feelings aside until we have this whole thing wrapped up.”

  “Oh, I don’t know that he needs our help all that much,” I said. “I know he’s not telling me everything. And I’m not positive he didn’t kill Levi, or the Wolf, or whoever he was.” I closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeat. It was soothing. Man, I’d missed him.

  “Why don’t you get the riddle and we can try to solve it?” He stroked the top of my head.

  “All right.” I got up and retrieved it from the desk drawer, sitting back down on the couch with my legs across his lap. “Okay, the first line is From Pleshiwar to the parish of the maid… It’s pretty safe to assume that refers to the Eye—it came from Pleshiwar to New Orleans.” I frowned as I looked at the next line. “Okay, Who saved a city and was burned down to ash—I mean, obviously that’s Joan of Arc—the Maid of Orleans. But we already know the Eye is here, so why bring her up again?”

  “It’s a second clue, maybe.” Frank started stroking my shoulder. “Obviously, the riddle is directions to where Doc hid the eye—and he intended for you to be able to figure it out. So, my guess would be it’s intentional, not a repetition—maybe the St. Joan statue on Decatur Street is the starting place.”

  “That makes sense,” I said. “So, if the statue is the starting place…” I thought for a minute. “To the park where so many still ply their trade—that’s got to be Jackson Square.” I smiled to myself. The statue of Joan of Arc was on Decatur Street where it split. Right up the street from the statue of St. Joan was Jackson Square. The pedestrian mall on the other three sides of the square was always full of artists, mimes, and fortunetellers.

  The spires of the saint.

  St. Louis Cathedral, of course. I grinned. Always asking for cash. That was Doc, all right. About ten years earlier, the cathedral had needed a facelift. The Archdiocese had gone on a fund-raising tear and appealed to the citizenry of New Orleans for help. The basis of the appeal was that the cathedral was perhaps the most famous landmark of the city, and it really belonged to the whole city. Ergo, the city had a responsibility to help keep it up.

  Doc had been furious.

  “The goddamned cathedral does not belong to the city,” he’d raged one night over bourbon and cigars at my parents’. “It’s a working Catholic church, and why is it the responsibility of the city and the people who live here to pay for the upkeep on a goddamned Catholic church? Why don’t they just ask the pope to sell a fucking painting? I am sure the Vatican could spare one of its treasures to keep up the Cathedral. But why should the goddamned church pay for it when they can beg the people to do it for them? They should be ashamed of themselves. It’s all they do—ask for money. Maybe someday they’ll get a pope who actually reads the Bible and will drive the money changers out of the temple.”

  I smiled. Whatever else he was, Doc had certainly had some opinions.

  “Okay,” I said out loud. “You start at the statue of St. Joan, move up Decatur to Jackson Square, and then behind the cathedral is a statue of Jesus—the fisher of souls—and his arms are spread wide. So Follow his left hand to the canopy of trees.”

  The canopy of trees—what did that mean?

  I concentrated harder.

  “Uptown.” I opened my eyes and jumped off the sofa. In my desk drawer, I had a map of the city.

  “Uptown?” Frank got off the couch and watched me dig through my drawer. He grinned. “Of course, the canopy of trees!”

  St. Charles Avenue was lined on either side with massive live oaks. Their huge branches reached over the street creating a canopy of trees. And the park behind the cathedral with the statue was on Royal Street, which became St. Charles Avenue when you crossed Canal Street on the way uptown.

  I unfolded the map, but looked down at it and frowned as I looked at it. All the streets in New Orleans followed the river—and there was a bend in it just past the Quarter. All the streets made about a forty-five degree turn on the other side of Canal Street. I traced a straight line from behind the cathedral uptown. “Prytania Street,” I said out loud. Prytania Street started on the other side of I-90 and ran uptown, ending near Audubon Park. It started in the lower Garden District, and the cross streets that ran toward the river were named after the Muses: Polymnia, Terpsichore, Euterpe, Clio, Urania…I followed Prytania Street with my finger as it crossed each street named after a Muse…

  The Muses. There was a line in the riddle about the Muses.

  I grinned and looked at the riddle again.

  “The Muses line up, to sing with the breeze,” I said, sitting down in the chair. Frank came up behind me and started massaging my shoulders, digging his strong fingers deep into the tight muscle tissue. It felt amazing.

  Like St. Charles, Prytania was also lined with live oaks on either side. I always drove up Prytania when I was on my way uptown—there wasn’t as much traffic as there was on Magazine Street or St. Charles, because both of these streets ran to Canal Street. Magazine became Decatur when it crossed into the Quarter, St. Charles becoming Royal.

  And almost its entire length Prytania had a canopy of trees.

  “The riddle wants us to go to the lower Garden District,” I said out loud.

  “And then what?” Frank asked.

  “I guess we’ll have to go and see.” I looked at the riddle again. “I have no idea what he means by the blonds from the sea.”

  There was a blast of nearby lightning and thunder shook the entire building. The lights went out.

  “Great.” I swore under my breath as I headed for the kitchen in the dark. I grabbed some candles from my storage cabinet and lit them. Lightning again lit up the entire apartment as I carried them back into the living room. I set them down on the coffee table.

  Frank held the riddle close to one of the candles. He squinted at it, and shook his head. “You
know, Doc always was a bit of an asshole.”

  “That’s what Mom said,” I replied.

  “Do you think this riddle really leads to where he hid the Eye?” Frank put the riddle back down on the coffee table. He sighed. “This whole thing seems a bit much to take—uranium, international espionage…and our very own Colin working for an international mercenary business.” He shrugged and grinned at me. “But I guess it’s no crazier than some of the other adventures we’ve had.”

  “Well, Doc wanted me to find it—and Kali certainly made Her wishes pretty damned clear to me,” I replied. “And the sad thing is we don’t really know who all the players are in this. We don’t know who killed Marty Gretsch or Doc—or Levi, for that matter—and we don’t even know who to turn the thing over to if we do find it.” I stood up. She would not be ignored. “Come on, let’s go find the stupid thing.” It sucked that it was raining, but maybe the rain would slow down the other players in this crazy game.

  Frank nodded. “I don’t want to just sit around here in the dark.” He hugged me again. “Come on, babe, let’s go find a sacred sapphire.”

  Chapter Twelve

  NINE OF WANDS

  Eventual victory, but more fighting must be done

  We grabbed our raincoats and umbrellas. We each slipped our guns into inside pockets of our coats—better safe than sorry—and headed out into the downpour.

  New Orleans has always been at the mercy of the weather, and I don’t mean just hurricanes. As so many pointed out after the levees failed and ninety percent of the city filled with water, much of the city is either at sea level or below. When a lot of rain comes down in a short period of time, the streets and gutters fill with water. This was one of those rainstorms. As I went out the back door, the rain pouring off the roof made it look like the back stairs were inside a waterfall. The cold wind had picked up and it howled as it roared around the building. I thought about suggesting we wait for the storm to pass—but decided against it.