Chapter 10
Though Simon thought having his fortune read was a waste of time, the drive got Holly away from Bayou Mambaloa and, hopefully, whoever was targeting her—at least for the morning.
He’d sent a text to the realtor asking to push back their appointment a couple of hours to give them time to find the seer and fulfill Madam Gautier’s request.
On the drive over to the neighboring parish, Simon contacted his teammate, Beau Boyette, who’d given him the name and phone number of his cousin, Alexandra Belle, who made some calls and texted him the address and phone number of Lady LeChance.
Holly called ahead to make sure the seer was available for a consultation. Lady LaChance assured her she would be there and was expecting them.
The GPS directions took them to a gravel road on the south end of the town of Bayou Miste. The road led to a clearing and what appeared to be an oversized gypsy wagon that had been converted into a home, complete with an electric line and satellite dish.
Simon had fully expected to see a horse tied close by, but wasn’t completely surprised to find a bright red, vintage Mustang convertible parked nearby. He shifted into park, dropped to the ground and met Holly at the front of the truck.
She took his hand and squeezed it. “I don’t expect you to believe; just be open to suggestion.”
“I’m wide open,” he said, with no trace of sarcasm. “Lead the way.”
They climbed the steps to the colorful gypsy wagon and knocked on the quaint, round, red door.
A petite woman dressed in a long, peasant-style skirt and top with a brightly colored scarf covering her hair opened the door. “You must be Holly,” she said. “Please, come in.”
When Simon stepped up behind Holly, Lady LaChance smiled up at him. “Ah, and you must be her lover, Simon.”
Holly gasped.
Simon forced a smile. After all, he couldn’t argue with the woman’s words. The previous night, he had been Holly’s lover. Whether they would ever be again...well, that remained to be seen.
“Have a seat on the cushions,” she said, “while I prepare our furry fortune teller.”
The cushions were large, fluffy pillows on the floor, one a deep purple, the other royal blue.
Holly sat on the purple pillow. Simon lowered himself onto the royal blue one and watched as Lady LaChance reached into a large metal cage lined with cedar shavings and removed a rodent that looked like a small beaver without the paddle-shaped tail.
She nestled the animal against her neck as she carried it over to where they sat. Lady LaChance sank onto a red cushion. In front of her stood the kind of portable tray table most people used for breakfast in bed. It had been covered with a pure white satin cloth.
“I ask that you two join hands, clear your thoughts, but for one that might be troubling you.”
Having agreed to be open to the session, Simon wiped the hundred and one concerns roiling around his head and focused on keeping Holly safe. If thoughts of her lying naked next to him in the starlight intruded, he considered it all about keeping her close and safe.
“Are you focused?” the woman asked.
Holly nodded. “I am.”
Lady LaChance looked past the creature in her arms and met Simon’s gaze. “And you?”
“I am,” Simon responded, hoping to hurry this meeting along.
“Then we shall begin.” Lady LaChance held the nutria up in front of her and stared into its little, furry face.
Creature of the bayou’s bend,
Whiskers twitching, truth you send
Stir the darkness, lift the veil,
Tell us what the signs entail.
She touched her nose to the creature’s, closed her eyes and held that pose for a long moment.
Then the nutria pooped.
Holly squeezed Simon’s hand.
Simon choked down a laugh and schooled his expression into his best poker face.
Lady LaChance opened her eyes and smiled down at the poop on the white satin cloth, studying how the pellets lay. “Well done, my dear. Well done.” She held the animal out. “Take my friend,” she said to Simon. “Hold him carefully while I interpret the signs.”
Simon took the animal, careful to keep his fingers away from its sharp teeth. At the same time, he hung its ass over the white satin-covered tray—in case it dropped more insight on their future.
Convinced it couldn’t get stranger, Simon held the nutria and watched as Lady LaChance’s eyes rolled back and her face paled. As if in a trance, she spoke slowly, her voice deep and monotone.
Love has found you, sweet and sure,
Tho’ bayou shadows prove unpure—
Trust not those who will deceive,
Or death’ll leave a love to grieve.
The air in the wagon grew heavy. The candlelight dimmed.
Simon brought the little rodent close to his chest, the creature's warmth doing little to chase away the sudden chill surrounding them.
Holly reached over and placed her hand on the nutria, leaning her shoulder into Simon’s.
Lady LaChance swayed left and right. Then she sat up straight, and her eyes snapped open.
She glanced from Holly to Simon and back.
“We’re done here.” She folded the satin cloth with the rodent poop inside.
“That will be forty dollars. You can leave it on the cushion and show yourself out.” Lady LaChance stood and walked toward a door at the back of the wagon.
She paused with her hand on the doorknob and glanced over her shoulder, her brow furrowed, a sad look in her eyes.
Ones you should trust will sell you cheap,
Loyalty bought, their secrets deep—
When hope runs thin, let love stay strong,
For truth will rise and right the wrong.
For a long moment, the seer stared at Simon. Then her gaze dropped to the nutria he held. “Leave Renault in the crate and secure the latch. He’s quite the Houdini escape artist.”
She disappeared through the door and closed it behind her.
Simon held the rodent a few moments longer, wondering what the seer had meant by all she’d said.
When Renault nipped Simon’s finger, he nearly dropped the animal.
“Here, let me.” Holly carried the nutria to his crate, laid him gently inside and secured the latch. Then she held out her hand.
“What?” Simon asked, his head still spinning with the seer’s predictions.
“Do you have forty dollars?” Holly asked.
Simon fished his wallet from his back pocket and handed her two twenties.
Holly laid them on the red cushion, then hooked his arm and led him out of the wagon.
Once they were back in the truck, he started the engine, backed up, turned around and drove down the gravel road. He glanced one last time in the rearview mirror and shook his head. “What the hell just happened?”
“Nothing,” Holly said, her gaze on the road ahead. “Just drive.”
They spent the trip back to Bayou Mambaloa in silence. Several times, Simon opened his mouth to say something and closed it, shaking his head.
Usually, he didn’t buy into all the supernatural bullshit, but something about the session in the gypsy wagon had set him on edge.
By the time they made it back to Bayou Mambaloa, they had to hurry to get to their meeting with LaShawnda at a home a block off Main Street.
They walked through the small bungalow painted lemon yellow with white trim. Though it was well cared for, with fresh interior paint and updated countertops, it didn’t inspire more than a passing glance from Simon. Holly had little to say as well.
“I’m sorry we only have one home to view today,” LaShawnda said as they left the yellow house. “The other two homeowners couldn’t alter their appointment times. I’ll have to set up viewings on another day.”
“It’s okay,” Simon said. “We can do this another day.” He took Holly’s hand and walked with her to the truck. “Thank you for being flexible,” he said to LaShawnda.
She gave him a bright smile. “I just want you to find the house that suits you most. I won’t try to sell you something you don’t love.”
“Thank you,” Holly said and climbed into the truck.
As LaShawnda drove away in her sleek black SUV, Simon sat with his hands resting on the steering wheel. “Where to?”
Holly leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. “How about we hit the diner? We missed lunch, and I won’t make it through my shift on an empty stomach.”
Simon drove the few blocks to the diner, parked and rounded to the passenger side to help Holly to the ground. He pulled her into his arms for a moment and rested his cheek against her temple. “I don’t know about you, but the visit with the seer sucked the life out of me.”
She laughed and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I thought it was just me. I came away from Bayou Miste completely drained from our session with Lady LaChance.” She leaned back and stared up at him. “Or is it we’re tired from being up all night and fighting a fire this morning?”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “Or are we just hungry and reading too much into her mumbo jumbo?”
“I could eat a bowl of gumbo.” Holly turned and slipped her arm around his waist.
“I like the Cajun-style meatloaf,” Simon said as they walked into the diner and found a booth in the far corner. They ordered their meal and ate in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Despite his attempt to ignore what the seer had said, Simon found himself replaying her words over and over in his mind. If it was a prediction of the future, how would it play out? Who were the people he was supposed to trust, and what would they do to betray that trust?
More importantly, what love would stand strong?
He stared across the table at Holly, her auburn hair falling down around her shoulders. Beautiful, passionate and determined to learn the truth. Was she the love the seer spoke of?
Did he love Holly?
He desired her, but was that love?
She glanced up, caught him looking at her and frowned. “Do I have gumbo on my face?” she asked, dabbing her napkin over her mouth.
He smiled, loving the sparkle in her green eyes and the way her forehead wrinkled when she was thinking hard. “Maybe a little,” he lied and reached out to brush his thumb across her lips. “There. Got it.”