Black Magic Lover

by Cynthia Cooke

  Laura’s eyes widened as she followed his gaze. “You saw?”

  Drew stiffened.

  “You were here!” It wasn’t a question but an accusation.

  “Yes.”

  She took a step back from him. Suspicion gleamed like hard brilliant stones in her watery eyes.

  “You knew and you didn’t tell me? Why?”

  “I didn’t remember what had happened until a little while ago.” He took her hands in his. “Believe me, I didn’t know Randal was involved.”

  He could see her thinking about what he’d said. “Was it really Randal?”

  “I was in the closet. I saw him hit her. I saw her lying there. He pulled me out and threw me on the bed then held his hands over my face until I lost consciousness. I couldn’t breathe.”

  A sick feeling twisted through Drew’s stomach. “What happened after that?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t remember any more.”

  Drew dropped onto the side of the bed. He recalled the vision Paul had shown him in the attic. Hands holding down a squirming Laura while someone anointed her head with oil. Was that what had happened here? He looked up to see Paul standing next to Laura, a look of sadness filling his face.

  For the first time, Drew wanted to talk to him, to know the truth. All of it. But more than that, he wanted to help his cousin who, in an instant, had lost his whole world.

  Who was responsible for all this? His mother? Jeanne? Randal? He thought he knew, but now…

  “I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around all this,” he admitted.

  “Why? Because Randal’s a senator?”

  “No, because he’s always been like a father to me.” He scrubbed his face with his hands.

  She sat next to him, placing a hand on his thigh. He put his on top of hers and marveled how close he felt to her after so short a time, but knew it was because of what they’d been through together. A bond had been formed, and even though neither of them remembered it, their hearts had.

  “Was Randal the only one you saw?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “You’re sure you didn’t see Jeanne? Or my mother?”

  “No. Why?” She stared at him, her big vulnerable eyes searching his. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  He debated how much he should say. She still wasn’t safe. And she wouldn’t be, not until he got her away from his mother and back on a plane to San Francisco.

  “Why would you ask about Jeanne being here?” she pressed. He wished he could kiss her until her trembling stopped and this nightmare ended.

  But he couldn’t. The nightmare wouldn’t be over until she was back home.

  “The night we almost drowned, I came back here looking for you.” He paused, not wanting to say why, not wanting to explain about the voodoo ceremony…about how he’d lain in the water with his cheeks painted blue waiting for Kafu to speak to him…to enter him.

  Soon you’ll be able to hear him, too.

  “I saw your mother on the floor. Jeanne was here. She told me to go after you. To save you. She said she had to take care of your mother, then she’d send help for us.”

  Laura stiffened. “Are you saying Jeanne disposed of my mother’s body?”

  “Perhaps. I don’t know.”

  “If my mother was already dead, wouldn’t Jeanne have gone after me herself?”

  It had been his birthday. He remembered. His tenth.

  His awakening.

  “Drew!” Her voice was shrill, demanding. “What if my mother wasn’t dead?”

  He stood. “Your mother still hasn’t been seen in twenty years.”

  “Neither have I!”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “It’s possible, but it doesn’t matter. We have to get you away from this swamp and away from Randal. He has the power to make sure you never tell anyone what happened in this room.”

  Laura stood and grabbed a picture off the nightstand. “Come on,” she said and hurried out the door.

  “Where are you going?” he called as he caught up with her down the hall.

  “To see Jeanne.”

  He faltered. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”

  She kept going, yelling over her shoulder. “Yes. But I need to hear the truth from her lips. I need to know what happened to my mother that night.”

  “And if Randal’s there?”

  “Then we’ll let him know we’re taking him down together.”

  Chapter 15

  “This is a really bad idea,” Drew said as they drove toward the Larames’. The muscles tightened around his mouth and he was clenching the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white.

  Laura’s stomach was tied up in knots. Now that she finally remembered what had happened to her mother, how could she go back home until she found out the rest? Until she knew whether or not her mother was actually dead?

  “Confronting Randal and Jeanne tonight is not smart,” Drew continued, his tone deeper and more even than usual.

  She knew there was nothing logical about the way she was feeling. She was operating on pure unbridled emotion, but it didn’t matter. She had to know. She clasped her hands between her knees and tried to keep her voice steady. “I’d like to hear what Jeanne has to say about that night before I go home.”

  “And if Randal’s there?”

  “All the better. This way he’ll know he’s no longer going to get away with what he did. People remember. People know.”

  Deep creases framed Drew’s eyes as he turned to look at her. She could see how worried he was but she needed answers. She deserved to know what happened to her mother.

  Her stomach turned again. She cracked the window, and closed her eyes as the fresh air hit her face. She had to hold herself together long enough to discover the truth.

  The sun sank lower in the sky as Drew pulled up the long driveway. Soon it would be night. How she’d love to get away from this dreadful swamp before then.

  She lifted the moonstone pendant still hanging around her neck and a fresh wave of sadness seeped through her. No matter how hard the truth was going to be for her to hear, she wanted to put all this behind her, to move on with her life.

  And she wanted to move on with Drew.

  She turned to look at him once more. His face was drawn, his lips thin. Finding out what had happened to her family was critical to her, but she knew discovering the truth might cost Drew what little family he had.

  Most likely Randal had killed her mom. And if she was having a hard time believing, how hard was it for Drew?

  Drew parked the car. As they got out, he pointed toward a flagstone path that led around back. “Jeanne always liked us to enter through the kitchen.”

  Laura didn’t remember that or anything about the house. She felt lost as she rushed to keep up with him. He walked with a rigidity that made her feel as if he towered over her. He was really upset. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps this was a bad idea. If her memories were right and Randal had killed her mother, then surely Jeanne knew about it. How far would a powerful politician and his wife go to keep his secret?

  Laura grabbed Drew’s hand, hesitating as they entered a brick courtyard next to a large round Cupid fountain. “Do you really believe the Larames are dangerous people?”

  Drew stopped and turned to her. “No.” There was a long pause. “Maybe. The truth is, I don’t know. Everything I thought I knew about everyone has suddenly been turned on its head.”

  She led him to a nearby bench where they sat close, their thighs touching, their hands clasped. His warm skin against hers made her think about how important he was to her. He had been there for her through this whole ordeal. She wanted to be there for him, too.

  “I don’t want to push this, Drew. If you don’t want to confront the Larames right now, we can wait. We can take what we know to the sheriff and let him deal with it.”

  Drew stiffened, but nodded. She knew what he was thinking. She knew Randal would
rather have Drew confront him than to have to deal with the sheriff. When Drew didn’t answer, she took a deep breath and looked around. Why couldn’t she remember this place? She was sure that once she’d remembered what had happened to her mother, all her memories would come back. But they hadn’t.

  She couldn’t remember anything that had happened after Randal had held his disgusting meaty hand across her nose and mouth. Shivers of revulsion swept through her. What had he done to her? Why hadn’t he killed her, too?

  “Are you ready?”

  She nodded. They stood and walked toward the back door. Drew knocked and Laura held her breath. She thought again of what she’d seen and heard. She was worried about Drew and what he was going to have to face, but the truth was, she wanted Randal to be here. She wanted him to open that door, because right now she’d like nothing better than to jump down his throat.

  A woman dressed in white from head to toe answered the door. Laura flexed her shoulders, forcing herself to relax.

  “We’re here to see Randal and my aunt Jeanne,” Drew announced.

  The woman, some kind of housekeeper or cook, Laura guessed, nodded and opened the door wider.

  “The missus is in the garden room.” She stepped back as they entered.

  “I know the way.” Drew walked through the large kitchen and down a hallway where raised voices echoed off the walls.

  “We have to do something, Jeanne,” a female voice said. “It’s all going down right now. We have to get her out of here.”

  The hair tingled on the back of Laura’s neck at the threatening tone.

  “Don’t you think I know that? Right now, I don’t even know where they are.”

  Laura’s breath caught as she easily recognized Jeanne’s soft Southern drawl.

  Abruptly, Drew turned toward an opened door and came to a sudden halt in front of her. Laura plowed into him, bouncing off his hard back. He stiffened and shifted slightly, blocking the doorway.

  The talking in the room suddenly stopped.

  “Drew?” Laura heard Jeanne say.

  Unable to wait a moment longer, Laura stepped around him.

  Jeanne’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Laura’s gaze moved to the woman with her. She was nondescript with short silver hair and wore men’s clothing.

  Instantly, Drew wrapped an arm around Laura’s waist, pulling her close to him.

  Confused, she looked up at him, but his gaze was locked on the other woman. Laura turned back to her. The woman hadn’t moved. She had that frozen, deer-in-the-headlights look about her. As Laura’s eyes met hers, the color drained from her face. Her blue eyes filled with fear and a trembling hand flew to her mouth.

  “What is it?” Laura asked, not understanding. Her heart kicked into an uncomfortably painful beat.

  The woman took a small step forward, her face crumbling. “Laura,” she murmured.

  Laura wasn’t sure if it was the sound of the woman’s voice or the pain shining through her very blue eyes, but suddenly her mind grasped the knowledge that her heart had already known.

  Her mother.

  Tears filled Laura’s eyes. After all these years, after all her prayers and sleepless nights crying for her mother, here she stood before her. Her arms outstretched, love and heartbreak beaming from her eyes—eyes that looked so much like Laura’s own.

  Her head spun. She swayed, her legs weakened. She needed to sit down. Drew tightened his grip and led her to a chair.

  “She’s too pale. She needs water.” Jeanne rushed from the room.

  Her mother hurried forward, bent down in front of her and peered into her face. Suddenly, Laura felt vulnerable, on display, like some new species of insect thrust under a microscope. She wanted to turn away, to run, to scream and cry, but she didn’t do any of those things. She just sat there and let this woman stare at her. This woman she’d been looking for and wondering about all her life, so certain she must be dead.

  Jeanne returned a second later with a glass of ice water in her hand. Laura took advantage of the distraction and turned her attention to Jeanne and the water.

  “Thanks,” she said, and took a long drink she could barely swallow.

  “Are you all right?” Jeanne asked.

  Laura stared at her. Was she all right? She’d just found out her mother, who’d abandoned her too many years ago to count, wasn’t dead after all but instead stood right in front of her.

  She squeezed the glass so tight, she was afraid it would shatter. The anger burgeoning within her must have shown in her expression for her mother stood and stepped back. Her expression was filled with grief. Her entire body sagged. Shoulders slumped, she walked back across the room to stare out the wall of windows as the last of the sun’s light faded to night.

  “Laura?” Jeanne said again.

  “How can I possibly be all right?” Laura asked, her voice sounding shrill. “I had just managed to convince myself that my mother was dead. That she had to be dead, because there was no other possible explanation for her not to have come for me, to have left me alone all these years.”

  Her mother’s back stiffened, but she said nothing as she continued staring out into the night.

  Coward. The word rang sharply through Laura’s mind.

  “So, you’ve been right here all this time?” she demanded when her mother still didn’t turn to face her.

  “Yes and no.” Finally she turned away from the windows. Tears stained her cheeks and her voice was hoarse with emotion. “I’ve been living in a town about thirty miles from here, where no one knew me or remembered the name Delilah Larame.”

  Laura stared at her, her heart clutched tight with pain. “And what about me?” she asked, her voice breaking as she forced out the words.

  Her mother stepped forward, one hand outstretched in a pleading gesture. “I wanted to take you with me, Laura. More than you can ever know. But I couldn’t take the chance that she would find you.”

  “She? That who would find me?”

  “My mother,” Drew said.

  Laura’s gaze shot to him. “What are you talking about?”

  When he didn’t answer, she looked to Jeanne and then back to her mother. What were they all talking about? “What does Martha have to do with any of this? It wasn’t Martha I remember hitting you, it was Randal. Are you telling me I remembered wrong?”

  Her mother’s head shook slowly back and forth while her gaze swept the floor.

  “I thought…I thought you were dead,” Laura whispered, still not able to comprehend the sight of her mother standing there in front of her. Alive and well.

  Jeanne’s face twisting with guilt enraged Laura even more. She turned on her. “All these years and you knew the truth. You knew where I was, yet neither of you came for me.”

  “I’m sorry, Laura.” Her mother stepped toward her again, but stopped before reaching her. She clasped her hands, wringing them violently in front of her. “You’re right. It was Randal. He did hit me. But it wasn’t me he wanted. It was you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “He was so angry about Paul’s death,” Jeanne said. “He wanted revenge. He wanted justice.”

  “He blamed me,” her mother added.

  “You? Because of that voodoo stuff?”

  “Randal didn’t know about our plans to leave,” her mother explained. “Paul was afraid to tell him. It was a mistake. I knew it then, but there was no talking to him. After Paul’s death, Randal was so upset he fell for Martha’s lies. He wanted someone to blame, needed someone to focus his rage on. I was his choice. After that it was easy for Martha to draw him into her plans.”

  Jeanne stepped close and placed a comforting hand on Delilah’s arm. “When Martha promised him that the voodoo ceremony would guarantee him the governorship…well, I’m ashamed to say he took her up on it.”

  Drew cursed under his breath. He clenched and unclenched his hands, and that telltale muscle in his jaw was twitching a jig. He was livid.

  “Do
n’t look at me like that, Drew,” Jeanne commanded. “Randal was a man full of grief and rage.”

  “You can make excuses for him all you want, but he participated in trying to kill a little girl.” Drew spat the words. “How could you forgive him for that?”

  Jeanne’s eyes filled with tears. “Because I had lost my only son. I was all alone and I couldn’t lose him, too. He was the only family I had left. He didn’t mean to do it. He was consumed with evil and rage. He still has nightmares over what he did.”

  “And the fact that he did indeed win the governorship and from there went on to become a U.S. Senator was only icing on the cake.” Drew’s voice grated.

  “What about my nightmares? Who did I have to help me?” Laura demanded.

  “I did everything I could to save you and your mother,” Jeanne insisted. “I called the authorities. I sent Drew after you and, as soon as I could, I whisked you out of the hospital and sent you to San Francisco to the same boarding school I went to as a child. I am an alumni there and a member of the board. I made sure you never wanted for anything. But most of all, I made sure Martha could never get to you.”

  “You’re right,” Laura said through clenched teeth. “I never wanted for anything. Except for a family. There was no one to visit on the holidays. No home to go to. After the first year, the dean took pity on me and took me home with her!”

  Jeanne’s hand flew to her hips. “We did the best we could, Laura. Your mom had to be hospitalized, too. I drove all night taking her to Arkansas so no one could find her. Then I had to drive all the way back here to get you to San Francisco and safety. I’m sorry if it wasn’t your idea of utopia, but you’re alive today because of it.”

  “How dare you—” Seething, Laura could no longer speak. Her heartbeat raced, and an uncomfortable heat surged through her.

  “Laura, I love you,” her mother said, stepping toward her once more. “I always have. I just wanted you to be safe. Jeanne and I both did.”

  Laura inhaled a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. “You were scared. It was a bad scene. I understand that. In a rage, Randal tried to kill us, but we both survived. No one found you, so why not come for me? After a week? A month? Even a year? Why didn’t anyone ever come for me?”