Krewe of Hunters 1 Phantom Evil (31 page)

“Why?” he asked.

It was Whitney who answered him. “My great-grandmother is coming over, and we're going to try to see that the children meet their parents.”

The house was still officially under criminal investigation, and yellow tape covered the entire end of the block.

But Andy Devereaux gave them permission. The six members of the team sat with Mama Matisse while she prayed to saints and gods, and incense burned in the air.

The children appeared, still holding hands with the specter of Susanne Crimshaw.

And then, they all saw the light. It was stunning, and it might have been a mass hallucination, except, in their hearts, they all knew that wasn't so.

There was the light, a shaft, a ray, a hallway. A woman came walking toward them. She was sad, but she smiled when she saw the children. She was dressed in Victorian attire, and she moved slowly at first, and then she ran, and she fell to her knees, taking the children into her arms. She stood then, and hugged Susanne.

Then, other images appeared. Instead of walking toward the light, they were walking
from
the light.

They remained at a distance; but Angela clearly saw a woman and a little boy. She knew the woman—she recognized her from the pictures she had seen. It was Regina Holloway, and Angela knew then that she had surmised the situation correctly. Regina had never haunted them because she had gone on. She had gone on to be with her son. But she was grateful to them, and she had come there, for just a shimmering instant, to say thank you. She mouthed the words; she smiled, and then she turned away, her son's hand held tightly in her own.

And the light faded from the room.

“It is done,” Mama Matisse said.

And it was.

That evening, the kids headed out for a night on Bourbon Street.

Angela and Jackson did not.

They played in the rooftop pool for a while, and they enjoyed the carousel bar, and they dined on delicious room service. Jackson told Angela the story of his first strange encounter when he was a child, and he talked about taking her to Scotland. He talked about the guilt he couldn't help but feel over the loss of the members of his previous team, and she felt that she'd shared more of him than anyone had before. He had shared his heart and soul, and he had done so much to mend hers.

They teased, laughed, grew serious, made passionate love.

And then, early in the morning, Jackson's phone rang.

He answered it. Angela listened lazily, half-awake.

“Who was that?” she asked when Jackson hung up.

“Adam Harrison,” he said slowly, looking over at her. “We've gotten our next assignment,” he said.

“Oh?” she asked.

But he took her into his arms.

“We don't start until tomorrow,” he said, and he gave her a dazzling smile. She grinned slowly in return, and then she kissed him. Today, they were going to exercise a few of the amazing joys that came with being alive.

TO FEED THE BODY….

Jambalaya

First, according to every chef I know in Louisiana—it just can't be
real
jambalaya if it isn't prepared in a cast-iron pot or Dutch oven.

• Brown the meat and set it aside.
  
• Sauté the garlic, chopped onions, and bell pepper (and banana peppers, if you choose to use them).
  
• Return the meat to the mixture and add the water, and the seasoning to taste. Pork and chicken need to cook thoroughly, until completely tender.
  
• Add the green onions when the meat is cooked through, and then add the water and rice, bring to a boil, then lower the heat to a simmer until the water is gone and the rice is cooked.
  
• Eat and enjoy!
  

The more you create this dish, the more you'll learn about your personal tastes—just how spicy is spicy? Many of my friends in Southern Louisiana
must
have Tabasco sauce in every dish, including jambalaya. (And on their eggs in the morning, come to think of it!) They carry tiny bottles of hot sauce on them, just in case they wind up in an establishment that is lacking the proper condiments!

TO FEED THE NEED FOR LIBATION!

In the 1940s, tavern owner Pat O'Brien was sold some pretty bad-tasting rum. He had to find a way to get rid of it. He created the first “hurricane,” with plentiful shots of rum, lime juice, and passion fruit syrup. Today, it remains one of New Orleans' most popular drinks on Bourbon Street, and, naturally, they are still on the menu at Pat O'Brien's!

A good “hurricane,” sworn to kill whatever ails you….

• Shake well with crushed ice; strain, serve over ice, or as is
  
• Garnish with a lemon slice, and/or orange slice, and add a maraschino cherry