Chapter Nineteen #2
“Where I am doesn’t matter, nor do the events in Boston. I need your help.” Grace held her breath as she waited for him to answer. He’d always told her she was one of his best students. Archie had also said he considered her a friend.
Would he help?
“What can I do?”
“I need all the published scholarship you can find on reincarnation.”
“Reincarnation? Grace, you can’t possibly be taken in by all that spiritualist nonsense that’s getting so much press right now?”
She almost laughed. Archie would never believe in Luc or his curse. However, her mentor had always been a good teacher, and good teachers encouraged students to question everything.
“I haven’t read a newspaper in months, Archie.”
“Really? Have you fallen off the edge of the world? What’s going on, Grace?”
She could see him smiling and shaking his head behind the behemoth of a desk as he had so many times when she followed an erroneous logic thread during one of their tutorials.
“I need to…” She took a breath. How to explain? “I need to debunk some rumors, so authoritative scholarship on the subject is important. Can you send it?”
“Of course. I’ll have my secretary make up a list. From that, I’ll tell her what to find and send. What’s the address?”
Grace told him of the Post Office in Duval Point.
“You’re in Louisiana? Such a long way for escape. Why there?”
“Like I said, that’s not important. Send the parcel Cash on Delivery.”
“If you insist.”
He wouldn’t. He was always generous with students. He thought all students impecunious whether they were or not. She hadn’t received that sort of kindness in a long time.
“I do. Have your secretary call me with the cost,” she said.
“It will be expensive, Grace.”
“You know I can handle any cost, Archie.”
He chuckled. “Your family always was well off.”
“Aunt Sarah marrying an Alden didn’t hurt the coffers any.”
“True.”
“When will you come back, Grace?” He asked, his voice higher. “We could use someone with your background. The new director’s attention is divided. He’s looking for able assistants.”
“I doubt he’d care for someone with my reputation.” She kept her voice even, banishing the pain of truth from her statement. Much as she’d love to get back to her work, Grace would never be able to do so again. Not in Boston, nor elsewhere. Her work had been her life.
Been.
As in, her past.
What was her future?
“You were acquitted,” Archie reminded her.
“Thank you for the vote of confidence, my friend, but I’ve no desire to return to Boston. I have commitments here.”
“It hurt nothing to ask.”
He had no idea how much it hurt, but she would heal that pain with the new life she was making. “Of course not, Archie. Have your secretary call as soon as possible, please.”
“I will. Grace…?”
“Goodbye, Archie.” She rang off before he could say more.
Grace sat, staring at the phone for long moments, then swallowed back the memories, both the real one and the dreams, fighting off fear, anger and grief.
She refused to mourn the Boston life she once had.
She refused to be that vulnerable again.
She’d protect herself, with knowledge and the truth.
The truth that dreams of another life and time, curses and Lucien Flynn were all fictions—stuff and nonsense created to help her survive a time of stress.
***
For almost a month, Grace had buried herself in a stack of books and tomes nearly as tall as Luc. While she searched for her answers, he investigated some questions of his own. Those investigations required time away from the Only Love and Sweet Dreams.
He worried about Grace’s safety, even while she sequestered herself inside the house with her books and documents.
Yes, she had the dogs, but he’d yet to see her use the amulet Mambo Ayezan had given her.
Luc had tried once to warn her about danger, but the ensuing drama had been more than either of them could handle.
She’d refused to believe him and accused him of trying to frighten her for some unknown ulterior motive.
If Grace would not protect herself, he would. Discovering who was behind the intrusions at Sweet Dreams was key to preventing them. Since she was secure in the house, it was probably the best opportunity he’d have to gain that information.
The rain, heavier and more persistent than other years, helped.
Rain in southern Louisiana was a near constant, especially during the winter months, with showers occurring nearly every day.
June, July, and August usually had significant amounts of rain, so persistent rainfall in April and May was uncommon, although not unheard of.
During his sailing years, Luc had weathered many a storm and not a few hurricanes.
Some years seemed wetter, some drier. Most of the time excess in one direction was balanced within the coming year.
The rains came a trifle earlier than usual that year, but rain didn’t bother him as he traveled spectrally to Duval Point. It was past time to deal with the person or persons causing trouble for Grace.
On this, nearly moonless night, Luc settled in a dim corner of Guidry’s nameless and poorly lit tavern.
He’d been keeping this watch frequently since chasing Raspy and Nasal off Sweet Dreams. To date, he’d learned little, other than that the grocer-sheriff-mayor, DeLille, was a more frequent visitor to the tavern than Luc had imagined.
DeLille and Guidry had grown up together.
Never fast friends, they’d competed with each other most of their lives.
Guidry had the advantages of a wealthy influential family but had never learned the value of hard work.
Nor did Guidry understand people and how to motivate them beyond the use of money.
DeLille on the other hand, had come from poor share croppers and knew hard work well.
That hard work had gained him not only a profitable business, but also an understanding of people and what motivated them, with the added benefit of respected standing from the landowners and laborers in the area surrounding Duval Point.
So, when DeLille walked into the tavern, Luc hadn’t been surprised.
What did surprise him was DeLille’s quiet request of the bartender. “Tell your boss I’m here.”
“He said you were coming,” the barkeep said with equal discretion. “Told me to have you go on into the store room.”
The older man ordered a bourbon and carried it with him to a door at the far end of the bar. Luc followed.
Guidry sat on a stack of crates, a lantern beside him.
DeLille found a similar stack and seated himself. “What’s so urgent that you had to risk having me meet you here?”
“Bitch of a night out there,” the tavern owner remarked.
“Yeah, raining gators and crawfish. I don’t have time to waste. What do you want?”
“We’ve been searching for months and ain’t found nothing,” he groused. “With that woman out there, we must be careful,” DeLille said, shifting his gaze around, as if needing to assure himself they were truly alone.
What woman? Are they talking about Grace?
“Should we get rid of her?” Guidry’s brow furrowed.
The grocer sipped at his bourbon. “What are you suggesting?”
The other man ran a finger under his collar. “Ain’t suggesting anything. Just asking. Besides, I think you know what I mean.”
DeLille simply stared.
Guidry actually squirmed. Luc knew the technique.
As expected, Guidry spoke up. “You ain’t paying me enough to do that.”
“So, half a famous pirate treasure isn’t enough to—how did you put it—get rid of one woman.”
The mention of a pirate treasure confirmed Luc’s suspicions.
“N… no.” Guidry’s eyes went wide.
“A Yankee woman, who never has visitors and no one cares about? Would anyone notice if she disappeared?”
“That land manager and his crew might.”
One corner of DeLille’s mouth lifted. “I can take care of them.”
“How?”
“He’ll get an offer of a better paying job somewhere north of here. She’ll be alone then.”
Guidry smiled. “Good. Let me know when the manager and crew are gone. When you do, I’ll get Jeffries and Walters to search everywhere in that house.”
“And the woman?” DeLille asked.
“They’ll have to take care of her.” Guidry said through clenched teeth.
“Are you certain they won’t leave a trail?” Casual disinterest colored DeLille’s voice.
Luc wasn’t fooled.
“I’ll make sure of it.” Guidry puffed out his chest, then his lips thinned. “Just one more question.”
DeLille sighed. “What?”
“What if we don’t find it?” The furrows in Guidry’s brow deepened. His shoulders fell.
“The treasure is there. I know it is.” the grocer stated with studied calm.
“How do you know? Show me the proof that makes you so certain,” the younger man insisted.
DeLille continued to smile. However, his gaze narrowed, and his brows lowered a fraction. “You don’t need to see that.”
“Don’t you trust me?” the tavern owner blurted.
The grocer sipped the last of his bourbon and stared into the empty glass. “Of course, I trust you. I’ve protected you, haven’t I? I made sure those first two bunglers you sent never said a peep.”
“Thanks for that. I still don’t know how you kept them out of prison. They sure were happy to go north and work for your kinfolk.”
Luc could see the smirk in DeLille’s eyes. If Guidry couldn’t, he was stupider than expected.
“I reward those who work for me. Even when their work is done.”
Luc sensed the increase in DeLille’s heartbeat. He was lying. Exactly what kind of a reward did he mean?
“Now, if you and I don’t get back to our wives, they’ll suspect we’re cheating on them,” DeLille said, his words wrapped in dry humor. “Don’t take any action until you hear from me.” He issued the hard order, without amusement.
“Don’t wait too long. I hear tell there’s floods up river.”
“I’ll be in touch soon.” The grocer stood, put his glass atop the crates and left.
As if deep in thought, Guidry remained for a while before he gathered the empty glass and exited into the tavern’s main room.
Luc followed DeLille. Was he really going home to his wife?
As Luc entered the apartment above the Emporium through the wall, he heard a woman’s voice.
“What did that fool Guidry want?” Mrs. DeLille sat on a sofa before a roaring fire, wrapped in a blanket. She was a petite woman, so the blanket nearly swallowed her. Her face was pinched and gray like someone in constant pain.
“You still cold, Edina?” her husband asked, concern swaddling his words. This was a different man than the hard one in the tavern’s stockroom. “It’s this rain. Makes my bones ache,” she whined.
“I’m sorry I can’t make your rheumatism go away.” DeLille planted a kiss on his wife’s head.”
“I know.” An impatient frown crossed her face. “Distract me. Tell me about Guidry.”
“He thinks we should get rid of Miz Thibodaux.” DeLille circled the small room as he spoke.
“That man is so stupid. She gets murdered or disappears, we’ll have all sorts of people poking around investigating. What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t tell him anything.” He paused in front of his wife. Tenderness filled his eyes. “I let him talk himself into arranging to have Jeffries and Walters search the house with orders to—and I quote—take care of her.”
“Those two are almost as great fools as the other two, what were their names?”
“Bill and Davy.”
“Did your cousin up north eliminate them?” A brief, joyful gleam replaced the pain squinting her eyes.
“I heard he had them working construction. There was an accident with some cement.” DeLille tossed off the comment as if he spoke about the weather.
The smile on Edina’s face would make a strong man quail.
Luc blinked, glad at the moment he was ephemeral.
These two are evil.
“Good to know your cousin is reliable. Now what are we gonna do about Guidry?”
“I think either Miz Thibodaux or Mr. Guidry will have to meet with an unfortunate end.” DeLille nodded as he paced “Whoever remains alive can be accused of murdering the other one.”
“Whatever you do, do it before Guidry messes up and sends those two fools to off Miz Thibodaux,” Edina insisted.
The grocer nodded and moved to look out the window at the rainy night. His hand fisted in the worn curtains, and his lips curled in a cruel smile. “Definitely. I have some details to arrange and told him to delay until he hears from me.”
“I wonder what kind of end should happen?” Glee brightened Edina’s brown eyes. “Maybe a drowning. That would be logical, with all this rain we’ve been having. The bayous are filling up fast.”
“I’ll sleep on that. You coming to bed?” he asked.
“I don’t think I can sleep tonight,” she whined.
“You want some of that aspirin the doctor gave you?” His voice and expression were tight with concern.
“That stuff doesn’t work. Get me some laudanum before you turn in, please.”
Luc returned to the Only Love. He needed rest. If Edina DeLille’s pain was anything like his own, he felt sorry for the woman.
Although his own body-splitting pain had not turned him bitter or hateful enough to kill anyone.
The woman should be grateful she had drugs she could use to escape for a time.
For Luc there was no escape. He’d confirmed the danger to Grace, so he had to tell her.
Given DeLille’s plan to rid her of her land manager and crew in addition to whatever end would befall Guidry, Luc believed he had a day, two at the most to persuade Grace to leave Sweet Dreams.
All he needed was a few hours rest. He could listen for her and the dogs. Any unusual sound would alert him. Confident in his abilities to avert danger, he closed his eyes and dreamed.