Voodoo Summer (LeGarde Mysteries Book 11)

by Aaron Paul Lazar

She hugged me one more time, then smiled. “Well, good. And now, I must return to a job I haven’t done since my college days when I used to work here for your grandparents over the summers.” Her eyes flickered with excitement and maybe a tiny trace of nerves.

  “You’ll do great.” I remembered the old album pictures of my mother in a white waitress uniform, sometimes standing next to my father at the waterside, sometimes carrying a tray of food over her shoulder. They’d met here as teenagers, worked summers together, and fallen in love. A few years later, they’d married and had me.

  My grandfather charged toward me with a bowl of chowder balanced in his hands. He was already in dinner-shift mode, which meant not one single movement was wasted. “Here you go, Gus. Grab yourself some milk and oyster crackers. You know where everything is, right?”

  “Sure, Gramps. Thanks.”

  It felt funny to be sitting and eating when the staff in the kitchen bustled through its busiest time, but I was starving, so I conveniently ignored that part. I slid into my seat with a cold glass of milk and three little bags of crackers. “Hey, guys.”

  Elsbeth and Willy were talking quietly and just gave me sweet smiles.

  Siegfried said, “Glad you made it. I wanted to come with you, but your grandmother was quite insistent that she get us home right away.”

  “Was your mother okay?” I asked, checking his eyes for clues. He seemed his usual serene self, so I figured the answer would be good.

  “Ja. There was a little time she was, um, getting upset. You know?”

  I nodded, slurping my chowder. “Yeah?”

  “Uh huh. But then, I guess it blew over. The phone call helped.”

  “Thank God for Mrs. LaFontaine. I’m glad there’s one nice person in that family.”

  Willy turned to me. “She suffers so much, poor lady.”

  “Does she?” I asked, tearing open a package of oyster crackers.

  “Well, you know that Monique and Pierre aren’t exactly easy to live with,” she said, sipping her milk. “I can testify to that. And her husband, well, he can be—”

  Elsbeth scowled. “A monster. That’s what he is. I hate him.”

  Willy dropped her eyes. “Moi, aussi.”

  I had a lot of questions, but I didn’t want to embarrass or upset Willy. “I was wondering, Willy. Is Pierre by any chance jealous of his sister?”

  Willy seemed surprised by the question. “How did you know?”

  “He just seemed a little too happy to hang around with his mother today. Sort of mooning over her. Like he was enjoying the whole thing. The attention or something.”

  “Ja,” Siegfried nodded. “I saw that too. It was very odd.”

  Willy picked up her spoon and blew on her chowder. “I suppose. When Monique was born, she had a serious illness. I am not sure what it was, but it almost killed her. It lasted four years, je crois, until she got better. So the ‘little princess’ was tended to night and day, and I heard that Pierre had to take second seat. She survived just fine, as you see. But I think there was a lot of bitterness. He has always been spiteful to her. And then, of course, her mother and father defend her when he’s nasty. And Pierre gets in trouble a lot.”

  Elsbeth said, “I can’t imagine brother and sister being like that.” She tossed an affectionate glance to Sig. “Can you?”

  Siegfried frowned. “Nein.” He took a drink of his milk, setting the glass down carefully on the table. “Willy? You don’t think he’s glad she’s gone, do you? I mean, why wouldn’t he search for her with the others?”

  Willy slumped back against her seat for a moment. “He’s different, Sig. Hard to figure out, you know?”

  I wanted to tell them I’d seen him sobbing on the beach, but I still didn’t know what it meant. Was he sad about Monique? Worried? Or, humiliated that his mother had given him a dressing down in front of everybody?

  Usually he seemed so confident, strutting around like a sports hero or movie star. The change in him was so unexpected.

  I had to think about it some more.

  Chapter 24

  After the dinner rush was over, the storm blew past and the sun shone brilliantly, almost as if apologizing for its absence. Leaves sparkled with crystal water droplets that shimmied and shook and eventually plopped onto the ground.

  The four of us decided to try our hand at fishing off the dock, and I let Willy use my new pole. The old one worked fine, too, and I held that in my hands, sitting next to her on the rough gray planks. Elsbeth and Siegfried separated to the ends of the “T” so they could cast their lines without worries of accidentally hooking us.

  Great Pond was calm, its glimmering surface flat and unmoving. The only sounds were the zing of the fishing line as it whirred in our reels, the click when we wound up to cast again, and the slight drone of fishing boats in the distance.

  Willy seemed despondent, and let her pole sit limp in her hands. I’d put a bobber on her line, so she left it floating with a worm on the hook, waiting.

  “Willy?” I asked softly.

  She turned to face me. “Oui?”

  “I have something to tell you. Um…” I shifted my eyes. “I meant to tell you earlier, but with all that’s happened, it just didn’t seem the right time.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “What is it, Gus?”

  “We watched the ceremony the other night. On the beach.”

  “The campfire in the cove?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. With the voodoo doll.”

  Her face fell. “Oh. I thought you didn’t come because I didn’t see you there.”

  “We were there. But then I noticed the bottle being passed around and got nervous for Elsbeth and Siegfried. They’re only twelve, and I’m responsible for them. We hid.”

  She was silent for a bit. “It must have seemed a bit strange to you, n’est-ce pas?”

  “Strange is not the word, Willy. It was crazy weird. And I got worried for you. You seemed—”

  “Je sais. I can get caught up in the old ways. I’m easily mesmerized,” she said seriously.

  “But the whole thing about the doll. You know, burning it. What was the purpose?”

  “Oh, mon Dieu. The timing of this was so bad.” She grimaced. “I was so mad at Monique. She had just humiliated me—again—in front of some guests. I told my aunt I wanted to burn the doll and vent my anger.” Her gaze dropped. “It wasn’t supposed to be real.”

  “But then Monique disappeared.”

  She nodded solemnly. “I am half-afraid I was responsible.” Her eyes widened and tears threatened in her eyes. “I think maybe she just went up in smoke. She’s gone, Gus. No trace. No evidence. No nothing.”

  “But the ceremony took place the night before the ball. And she was at the ball, alive and well.”

  “Oui, that is true.”

  “If the spell really worked, wouldn’t it be immediate?”

  “I am not sure. I have seen some spells cast that take a little time to do their job. Sometimes they last years and curse a family for generations.”

  “Really?”

  “Oui.”

  “Maybe you should have cast that spell on Mr. LaFontaine. Or his horrible son.”

  She raised her eyes to mine. “You know, don’t you?”

  I flushed. “I know they are hurting you, or trying to. In a really bad way. But I’m not sure— ”

  She shushed me. “I have fought them off so far. But many of the other girls are not so lucky.”

  “How can they get away with such repulsive behavior? Shouldn’t they be in jail or something? Why don’t people speak up?”

  She looked at me as if pitying me. “Oh, Gus. You are so innocent.” She laid a hand on my arm. “I am a Negro. Most of the staff is, too. The young girls—either white or black—that they take advantage of have no recourse, no power, no money. No nothing. All we have is our jobs and the LaFontaine home to live in.”

  I bristled. “That is so wrong. Dr. Martin Luther King says—”

  S
he snorted. “We love Dr. King. But so far, nothing has changed in the real world, especially in the south. Change takes time. And meanwhile, we must survive.”

  “What would happen if someone like me—a white boy—reported seeing something bad to the police?”

  She glanced quickly at me. “Did you see something?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Today in the storage room. I stopped Mr. LaFontaine from having his way with Yvonne. He was on her, ready to…well, you know.” My cheeks burned.

  “If you reported it, mon cheri, he would deny it. He’d say you lied. He’d say you were trying to get him in trouble because of the customers he’s stealing from your grandparents. He’d hire a fancy lawyer and slip out of the noose fast as an eel.”

  “You really think so? You don’t think the cops would be relentless and pursue justice like on Perry Mason?”

  “What is Perry Mason?”

  “Never mind,” I said, shaking my head. “I just can’t believe that life is so hopeless. I think I need to tell my folks, at least.”

  Her face registered alarm. “Oh, Gus. S’il vous plait, No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if they start digging around our camp for such things, they’ll drag me into it. They’ll try to make me tell why I was hit in the eye. They will question me and my brother again.” She pointed to her injury. “And the LaFontaines will not believe that I would keep quiet. They’d fire us and leave us stranded up here in Maine with no money, no car, no home.”

  I stared at her, wanting it to be different. “You could stay with us.”

  She shook her head. “No. It would not be possible.”

  My heart broke for her, and indignation welled up inside me. “That’s just so wrong, Willy.”

  She sighed and reeled in her line. “Yes. But it’s life. Now, I have a question for you.”

  “Okay.”

  “What is that pulling on your line?”

  The nibble I’d been ignoring turned into a bite, and the tip of my line bent down hard. “Oh, crap! I’ve got something!”

  I worked hard to pull in the fish that seemed much larger than our usual perch or bass. At the very end, the giant pickerel jumped once, flashing in the sun, and slipped the hook.

  She grimaced. “See? Just like the LaFontaine men. They can get out of anything.”

  When we’d tired of fishing, Siegfried finally made the move he’d been thinking of for days. He asked Willy to take a walk with him around the camp before she turned in for bed at my grandparents’ cabin.

  “Why, Siegfried,” she said with a coy smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Elsbeth trilled a laugh, delighted with the turn of events. “We’ll see you for breakfast, then, Willy?”

  “Bon soir.” Willy turned to wave and smile over her shoulder. “See you in the morning, as long as the good Lord gets me through the night, Elsbeth.”

  They strolled up the hill. About halfway up, Willy took Sig’s hand and held it all the way to the top.

  Elsbeth released a dreamy sigh. “Oh my goodness, Gus. I think maybe she really does like him.”

  “I know. And he’s been having feelings for her all along. He’s just a little shy about it.”

  She giggled. “Well, Willy’s not shy.”

  “No,” I said. “She sure isn’t. Now, let’s get you home.”

  “Okay. I’m pretty tired, Gus.”

  “Me, too.” I slid my arm through hers and brought her safely to her cabin, then trotted across the way to Wee Castle. My mother met me at the porch door, having been watching our walk from the dock to the Marggranders. I’d seen them both check on us throughout the evening. And somehow, for once, it didn’t make me feel like a little kid, it made me feel loved.

  Chapter 25

  In the middle of the pitch-black night, Shadow growled and jumped off the bed, whining at the window.

  When a sound that didn’t belong to the sleeping lake came from the porch outside my window, my eyes shot open.

  What the heck was that?

  I sat up and listened hard, wondering if I had dreamed it.

  I got my answer when a rhythmic creak on the porch boards jolted me further awake.

  Another growl came from my brave dog and he jumped up with both front paws to look outside. The growl turned to a low snarl.

  I crept out of bed and joined him at the window, heart thumping wildly. Through the screen, the soft scent of moist night air blew gently toward me. I stared outside, but couldn’t see anyone.

  “What is it, Shadow?” I whispered. “A raccoon?”

  I had to admit the sounds had been less of a pattering, toenail clicking sound and more of what I imagined to be boots scuffing on floorboards. But I hoped I was wrong.

  Shadow whined, turned in a circle, and faced my bedroom door, nosing it open.

  “You want to go out?” I asked, getting nervous now. “Shadow, it’s the middle of the night.”

  Something niggled at me, telling me this excursion of his was not linked to bodily needs, but to wanting to check out that noise. I waited a few minutes and didn’t hear anything that didn’t belong.

  “I don’t know. With all that’s happened lately, I don’t think they’d want us out alone in the dark tonight. Maybe we should get Dad and—”

  A shriek erupted in the cabin. I knew instantly that it came from my parents’ room.

  I crashed through my bedroom door and pelted barefoot across the living room, into the kitchen, and over to my folks’ room. “Mum? Dad?”

  Shadow bolted toward the door, barking hysterically and scratching to get inside.

  Another scream, a yell from my father, and the clatter of him yanking open the bedroom door like a madman.

  “Dad? What is it?”

  He pounded across the floorboards toward the porch with Shadow in hot pursuit. They both flew out the screen door and disappeared.

  I turned to my mother. “Mum?”

  “Stay close to me, Gus. Someone’s out there.”

  “Holy mackerel.” My heart pounded beneath my ribs like a vibrating conga drum. “Who is it?” Shadow’s barks were shrill and fierce. He was going after the guy with all his might.

  “I don’t know, honey.” She pulled me to her. “All I saw was a hooded face peering in at me when I woke up to take a drink of water. He was so close—you know how my pillow is right next to the window?”

  I gulped and nodded.

  “Well, he was about two feet from me. Scared me to death. He might’ve been wearing some kind of stocking mask, because his nose looked smashed and funny.”

  She hiccupped a little sob, but I was proud of how she was handling it.

  “Thank God your father’s a light sleeper. He shot out of bed and went after him in two seconds flat.”

  “Should we help him? I mean, what if the guy is armed? Should I run up for Gramps to get help?”

  “Not yet. You stay right by me.” Her face tightened. “I saw him run fast in the opposite direction as soon as I screamed. He’ll probably have a huge head start. And it’s black out there. So, I suspect—”

  Panting, my father returned to finish her sentence. “He’s gone. Vanished like a ghost. I found this under the window.” He swung a chrome flashlight by its round end clip. “What do you think? Fingerprints?”

  I nodded enthusiastically. “You have to bag it so no more prints can get ruined, Dad. I’ll get something.”

  “What about footprints, André?” my mother asked. “It rained all day, right? There should be lots of mud. And plenty of footprints.”

  My father—who had been leaning against the doorjamb in his boxers and nothing else, trying to catch his breath—glanced approvingly at my mother. “Gloria? That’s an outstanding idea.”

  “What’s happening around here? First a girl goes missing, and now this pervert is back.” She slumped onto the bed, shivering. “We need thick curtains. I’ll buy some heavy fabric in the morning at the mill. Maybe your parents would like to upgrade
all the cabins for now, until we catch him.”

  “What’s he after?” I asked. “He’s not a robber, or he’d try to sneak inside and not wake us up.”

  “He’s a peeper,” my mother said. “He’s sick. And I suspect he’s trying to figure out which windows belong to girls or women. First he tried the Marggranders. Now us.”

  “I think you’re right, Mum,” I said with a low whistle. “I’m pretty sure he looked in my window first. Shadow was growling, and I heard creaking on the porch.”

  Her face fell. “Oh, no. And your window was wide open, right?” She turned with a nervous expression to my father. “What if he’s that kidnapper, André? What if he is planning to take another child?” Her voice went shrill at the end of her sentence. I could tell this scared her much more than being peeked at in her nightgown.

  My father frowned. “Gloria, we don’t have reason to link the two, per se, but I think Officer Lawson needs to hear about this. It might be related.”

  “We’re getting locks installed on all the windows tomorrow,” he said sternly. “Any window accessible from the ground will be securely closed and curtained off at night until we figure out what’s going on.”

  I hated the thought of losing my lake breeze every night, but it was a good idea to keep the weirdo out of the cabin. I had to agree with him on that point.

  Shadow was still sharply barking in the distance. It seemed to be coming from the direction of The Seven Whistles. I wondered if maybe he treed the guy.

  In fifteen minutes, my dog returned, looking virtuous and proud. I hoped to heck he had bitten the peeper.

  “Good dog,” I said, hunkering down to hug him. “Did you get him, huh? Did you scare him away?”

  His white-tipped tail wagged madly and he poked his nose against my stomach.

  “Gus?” My father said. “I want you to stay with us for the rest of the night.”

  My mother grabbed another pillow from the closet. “Right in the middle, big guy. Just like you used to do when you were little.”

  I eyed the bed. It was huge and I knew we’d all fit, even Shadow. “Shadow, too?”

  She laughed. “Of course. He can sleep at your feet, honey.”