Chapter 6 #2
“Most of her life,” Holly answered. “She was born and raised there. She had a place on the mainland after she married and had children. Raised them all and moved back to the island when her mother passed. She took her place as the resident Voodoo queen.”
“What exactly does the job of resident Voodoo queen entail?”
Holly smiled. “Mostly, she uses her skills with herbs and potions to help others with their problems.”
“Problems like?”
“Usually health issues.”
“Why don’t they go to a doctor?”
Holly shook her head. “Many of them either have gone and gotten no relief or can’t afford to go.
Mémère helps them, whether or not they can afford to pay.
She helps with emotional support as well.
Sometimes, all they need is a shoulder to lean on.
Someone who will bear witness to their love, loss or loneliness. ”
Holly wove in and out of the channels until she came to a small island. A short dock jutted out into the water with a skiff tied to a cleat on one of the pilings.
Relief filled Holly’s heart. “Oh, good, she’s home.” She killed the engine and floated up to the dock.
When they were close, Simon reached out a hand and caught the edge, pulling the skiff alongside. Using the line at the front of the craft, he tied it to a piling and stepped up onto the weathered boardwalk.
He reached down, grasped Holly’s hand and pulled her up beside him, slipping an arm around her waist to steady her.
She liked how strong and solid he was. For the moment, she wasn’t in a hurry to move away.
“Holly, my dear girl,” a voice called out from the porch of the house perched on a gentle rise above the dock.
Holly glanced up at Simon. “Fair warning...my Mémère can be direct, and sometimes, intimidating. Don’t take her words personally. She really does wish most people well.”
“Are there some she doesn’t?”
Holly’s lips twitched. “There have been a few who’ve gotten crossways with her. She has her own special way of handling them.”
“With a curse?”
“Maybe.”
“You go on,” Simon said. “I’ll tie off the boat and join you.”
“Afraid of her?” Holly asked.
He grinned and echoed her own word, “Maybe.”
With a smile on her face, Holly strode up the rise, taking in all that was familiar, from the colorful chickens pecking at the dirt to the vibrant paint scheme on the cottage she’d spent much of her childhood.
The house itself was painted a glorious cerulean blue, representing peace, serenity and the spiritual realm.
Windows and doors were trimmed in a bright saffron, indicating understanding, mental clarity, and open communication.
The door and shutters were a bold chili-pepper red for strength, power and passion.
Standing on the porch, wearing a flowing caftan of all those colors and more, with a matching scarf tied over her shock of white hair, was her grandmother.
Holly hurried up the steps and wrapped her arms around the woman she loved with all her heart. “Mémère, I’ve missed you so much.”
The older woman held her tightly and patted her back. “About time you came home. You never should’ve left.” She sniffed and pulled back. “What’s this I hear that you changed your name to Hazard? What’s that all about?”
Holly smiled down at her diminutive grandmother. “I’d hoped that by changing my name and moving to another state, the curse wouldn’t find me.”
“That’s the biggest bunch of gator droppings I’ve ever heard. You’re a Gautier, by birth and blood. Hazard.” She snorted. “You’re not a Hazard. The curse isn’t about you.”
“But it is.” Holly gripped her grandmother’s hands.
“I thought by moving that I could keep other people I love safe. And it worked for six months. Or at least, I thought it worked. Until another message appeared in my bathroom mirror in Atlanta. It was then that I realized it would follow me anywhere. I needed to come home and warn you, my friends and family, that it was back.”
“Hogwash, my dear. You should’ve stayed.
I would’ve insisted that you come back, but you were grieving.
I thought being away from what happened might help you move past your loss.
” She curled her fingers around her granddaughter’s and squeezed.
“But, Holly, my dear, sweet girl, you can’t run away from your problems. You have to stay and fight. ”
Holly nodded, tears welling. “I know that now. I hope you can help me.”
“You can tell me all about it after you introduce me to the fine, sturdy oak of a man headed this way.” She leaned around her granddaughter and called out, “Mind yourself. Napoleon doesn’t like men.”
Simon’s brow dipped. “Napoleon?”
As if on cue, a flash of color flew across the yard, straight at Simon, and attacked his legs.
“What the—” Simon danced around, trying to avoid a large, brown, blue, red and black rooster with a massive red comb.
“That’s Napoleon,” her grandmother said. “You know what to do.”
Holly chuckled and reached for the large fish net hanging on a hook on a post and hurried out into the yard.
“Can you call it off?” he cried out.
“He’s only protecting his hens,” Holly said.
“Watch out,” Simon moved to stand between her and the rooster. “His talons hurt.”
Holly touched Simon’s arm. “Move aside. I’ve got him.”
“But he won’t stop,”
“He will,” she assured him.
Simon refused to let her by, all the while the rooster continued his attack. Simon continued to dance and kick as the rooster flapped his way backward and then quickly darted forward to sink his spurs into the man.
Holly stepped around Simon, scooped the rooster up in the fish net and carried it to the porch, where she hung the net, rooster and all, on the hook.
“He won’t bother you now. Come. Meet my Mémère.
” She ascended the steps and stood beside her grandmother, whose lips were twitching as if she fought a smile.
Simon brushed dust from his jeans and mounted the steps, steering clear of the rooster trapped in the fishnet.
Holly waved a hand toward her grandmother. “Simon, this is my Mémère, Madam Gautier. Gran, this is Simon Sevier, my...bodyguard.”
Her grandmother’s eyes widened as she held out her hand. “Bodyguard, is it?”
Simon smiled as he took her hand and gently shook it. “Yes, ma’am. Until we find out who left the messages and the voodoo doll and put an end to the threats, I’ll be with your granddaughter.”
“Twenty-four-seven?” Madam Gautier’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
For a moment, she met and held Simon’s gaze, using her famous stink-eye intimidating stare.
Holly almost laughed, but didn’t because she was impressed with how Simon held his own, refusing to blink or look away.
Finally, Madam Gautier nodded. “All right then. I’m glad someone will help to protect my granddaughter. Now, tell me everything.”
Holly told her about the message on the car the night before and gently pulled the voodoo doll out of her pocket, the pin still stuck firmly in the doll’s body.
Madam Gautier took the doll in her hand and studied it for a long moment. Then she handed it back to Holly. “Cheap trick.”
“What do you mean?” Holly asked.
Her grandmother turned the doll over, parted some of the twine and pointed.
Written in small letters, barely noticeable, were the words MADE IN CHINA.
Simon chuckled.
Holly shot a frown his way. “Okay, so it might not be part of the curse, but it is a threat.”
“The only way that doll will hurt you is if you prick yourself with the pin, which is probably also made in China.”
“What should I do?” Holly asked.
“Toss the doll in the garbage and go to work?” her grandmother said. “Has anyone shown any sign they aren’t glad you’re back in town?”
Holly shook her head. “The only person who has given me any grief is Cody West. He can’t seem to accept that I have no desire to be with him. None. Zip. Nada.”
“Caused you some trouble, did he?”
Holly nodded.
“Do you want me to put a curse on him?” Her Mémère’s eyes shone with a sassy gleam. “Maybe give him a wicked itch that’ll keep him busy for a while?”
Simon’s lips twitched and then pressed together in a flat line. He leaned close to Holly and whispered, “Remind me not to make your grandmother mad.”
Holly laughed. “That won’t be necessary.”
Her grandmother gave a solemn nod. “Find the person who isn’t glad you’re back, and you might find who put the doll in your car.”
A shout sounded from the direction of the dock.
Simon, Holly and Madam Gautier turned to find someone paddling up in a pirogue.
Holly’s eyes narrowed. “Is that Lissette?”
“Yoohoo,” a feminine voice called out. The pirogue slid up the bank and came to a stop.
As smooth as a dancer, Lissette stepped out, wearing a flowing dress, her long black hair falling down over her shoulders.
Beautiful and unruffled after paddling through the bayou, she could just as easily have stepped off the runway at a fashion show.
“Who wears dresses to canoe through the bayou?” Holly muttered.
“Hi, y’all,” Lissette sang as she sauntered up the rise carrying a basket like Little Red Riding Hood come to pay her grandmother a visit.
Only Lissette was more like the wolf than the little girl, always stirring up trouble and dragging everyone else into it.
The last thing she needed was Lissette to insert herself into her search for a cure to her curse.
Holly braced herself for whatever mischief Lissette came to serve up.