Chapter 13 #3
Xavier’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out.
The name on the screen was Jeffries. He let it go to voicemail and slipped the phone back into his pocket, not feeling an iota of guilt for ignoring it. Actually, not feeling anything about the call or Jeffries.
Madame Gautier and Lissette broke apart, laughing through happy tears.
The older woman brushed her hands down her apron and nodded to Lissette. “I will pack.”
“Really?” Lissette’s face split in a grin, lighting up the room and Xavier’s heart. She needed to smile more often. She was pretty when she didn’t smile, but she was even more beautiful when her happiness shone through.
“If you would pour de poultice into jars, I’ll fill a suitcase,” her grandmother said.
“I’ve got this.” Lissette nodded. “I learned from the best.”
Madame Gautier hurried from the room.
By the time Lissette finished filling and capping the jars, her grandmother entered the kitchen. “My suitcases are in the bedroom.” Her warm, mocha skin flushed a ruddy red. “Dey are heavy.”
“We’ll get them,” Lissette promised.
“I will box dese and other items we might need while you carry suitcases to de skiff. Will it hold everyt’ing?”
“We’re taking the skiff and my pirogue. Between both of them, we can take whatever you need.”
“And Napoleon?” her grandmother insisted.
“I’ll get the cage out from under the porch for him,” Lissette said. “I wouldn’t want to leave him alone in a hurricane.”
Lissette led the way into her grandmother’s bedroom, where two large suitcases lay on the bed, bulging with their contents, along with two smaller ones on the floor.
“You take the small ones,” Xavier said. “I’ll get the big ones.”
“I’m not arguing.” Lissette grabbed the little ones and headed down the hallway, calling out as she passed the kitchen. “We’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be ready.” Madame Gautier continued filling a box with vials and jars.
Once out on the porch, Lissette stepped to the side. “You go ahead. I want to grab the chicken cage.”
“I can do that after I drop these,” Xavier said.
“No need. I can carry it and these two.”
“Okay.” Xavier walked down the steps and a few steps further, but paused to wait for her. He enjoyed watching Lissette as she descended the steps, set her cases on the ground and pushed between the azalea bushes. In the gloom of dusk, she reached beneath the porch.
Xavier should have insisted on retrieving the cage. Any manner of creature could have taken up residence beneath the porch.
He started to put down the heavy cases when Lissette pulled a wire cage through the bushes. There were spiderwebs on it, which she quickly brushed away.
She tucked one of the little cases under her arm, grabbed the other by the handle with that same arm, snagged the cage in her other hand and followed Xavier down the hill to the skiff.
He loaded the heavy suitcases onto the floor of the boat and came back to take the little cases from her. “I’ll take those,” he said.
“I’ll load Napoleon.” She opened the cage door and stood it up so the door was on top. “Come on, you mean old bird,” she said as she grabbed the handle of the fishnet with one hand, the bottom of the net with the other and flipped it over the top of the cage.
Napoleon curled his talons around the net strings and hung upside down.
“Come on, it’s for your own good,” Lissette said.
The rooster flapped his wings and squawked his indignation.
Xavier dropped the suitcases in the skiff and returned to help. “Let me hold the handle.”
She passed control of the handle to him and started peeling the bird’s claws from the net.
Finally, Napoleon dropped into the cage.
Xavier jerked the net out of the way.
Lissette slammed the door shut and laughed. “Great teamwork.” She leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.
Xavier dropped the net, pulled her into his arms and kissed her for real.
By the time he lifted his head, they were both breathless. “I love it when you laugh,” he said.
“I love when you kiss me,” she said and leaned up to kiss him again. “Let’s go get Grand-mère.”
They returned to the house, climbed the steps and entered the house.
“Grand-mère, are you ready to go?” Lissette called out, rounding the corner into the kitchen.
The box her grandmother had been filling was still on the counter, but some of the jars she’d been loading lay broken and scattered across the floor.
Xavier pulled the gun from his waistband.
“Stay here,” he ordered Lissette and hurried down the hallway, checking in each bedroom until he reached the mudroom at the rear of the house.
The back door stood open. The boot Madame Gautier had worn to protect her sprained ankle lay on the ground at the bottom of the landing.
An engine roared to life on the other side of the small island. In the gathering darkness, Xavier saw the shadow of a boat speeding into the bayou's darkness.
Lissette ran across the field. “No! Oh, sweet heaven. No!” She stopped, spun, and ran back to the house. “We have to go after them. They have her. They have my grandmother!”