Voodoo Love (And the Curse of Jean Lafitte’s Treasure) (10 page)

             
From where I sat, I could see
Barataria
Bay
in the distance. It's a decent sized body of water bordered on each side by the bayou. Travel far enough out and you'll reach a point where the bay opens up in the
Gulf of Mexico
. In my short time here in Barataria, I'd seen some strange weather phenomena on the water. Eddie always said it was because of the bay and the Gulf being so close together. That caused temperature changes which in turn created some crazy optical illusions.

             
I wondered what he would think of what I was seeing now.

             
While Diego stood there communing with the statue or whatever he was doing, a thick fog bank rolled in from the bay and the remaining rays of sunset were snuffed as darkness descended. Fog is not unusual around here, but the speed that this moved was unnerving. It reached the shore, unfolding like misty fingers and stretching around the town square.

             
There were shapes in the fog. In disbelief, I squinted and could just make out the outline of people. They wavered in and out focus so much that I wasn't sure they were real. Goose bumps broke out along my arms. Instinctively, I locked my door, and glanced out the car window.

             
A face looked back at me and I screamed. It was Carla. Her chest gushed blood, and she still wore the same dress she'd had on when Diego shot her two years ago. But there was no expression in her eyes, no hint she recognized me at all. In fact, one minute she stood there, pale and ethereal, and the next she'd moved away, towards Diego.

             
That's when I saw them all. Dead people. These were the people Diego had killed.

             
"Holy shit," I whispered.

             
"There's nothing holy about this,
Elizabeth
." Juan materialized in the passenger seat. "This is Lafitte's curse and our best chance to get you away from Diego."

             
"How? I don't have the keys. He took them."

             
The engine roared to life.

             
"Super powers, remember?" Juan smiled.

             
I flicked on the car lights and wished I hadn't. One of the figures in the fog turned to look at me. There was an animal like viciousness in its face. It stood next to Diego who shrieked at finding it so close to him. He whirled towards the car, afraid.

             
"Don't you leave me, bitch!" His shout may have been muffled, but his intention was crystal clear as he raised the gun.

             
I put the car in reverse and hit the gas, flying backwards. He fired off a shot that broke the side passenger window but missed me. Glass flew everywhere, and as I put the car in drive, I could hear him shouting.

             
"You bitch! Get back here!"

             
I glanced over to see the fog surrounding him, bony hands reaching towards his gaunt figure. I couldn’t help myself. I raised my middle finger in salute and sped off into the night.

****

             
Juan and I were quiet for a few minutes, both processing what had just happened.  I drove on the dark roads just outside of Barataria, unsure of where we were going or what the plan was. My mind felt jumbled and exhaustion crept in, a product of the adrenaline finally wearing me out. All I really wanted to do was find a bed, pull the covers over my head, and settle in for a week.

             
"Turn right," Juan said.

             
I slowed down and turned onto a dirt road. It was like traveling down a tunnel with Spanish Moss trees arched over the road, their arms heavy with leafy tendrils. My headlights cut through the darkness, but revealed nothing about what lay at the end.

             
"Where are we going, Juan?"

             
"To Euralie's."

             
"What? She lives out here?"

             
"Yes. Her family has owned a piece of land in this area for over two hundred years. They were some of the first original settlers of Barataria."

             
"She's been so close all this time, and I never even knew it."

             
"Euralie is a private person. She probably didn't want you to know about her. She feels that she failed her family."

             
"Because the map got in the wrong hands?"

             
"Something like that." He was quiet a moment. "Slow down. We don't want to run right into the swamp."

             
I braked gently, glad for the warning. In the darkness, the water was hard to see, only the muddy bank giving away its existence. The car shuddered and then died. Too much ghost mojo, I guess. Without the headlights, it was impossible to see anything in the area.

             
"Are we getting out?" I asked. "Even with your super powers, I don't think it's safe to run around the swamp without lights."

             
"Probably not. Pop the trunk."

             
"No keys. No can do."

             
Juan disappeared, and a moment later I felt the car vibrate a little as the trunk was lifted open. I got out to see what was going on.

             
"Here." Juan handed me a flashlight and a tire iron. As he was about to shut the trunk, I spotted something in its depth.

             
"Whoa!" I reached in and grabbed a brown paper bag. "I know exactly what this. Good old Ellen made at least three trips a week to the liquor store to pick up her favorite brand of vodka. This is coming with us!"

             
Juan gave me a weary grin as I cracked the seal on the bottle of Tito's Vodka.

             
"C'mon,
Elizabeth
, we have a ways to go before we can let our guard down."

             
I took a swig of vodka, feeling the burn as it went down my throat. Switching on the flashlight, I followed my ghostly companion through the brush of the swamp, hoping we weren't going to encounter snakes or gators. Neither was on my top ten list of things I wanted to deal with that evening.

             
Then again, the walking dead hadn't been on the list either.

             
Juan didn't say much. He steadied me a few times when I tripped, his touch sending small fires through my body which made me feel ashamed. I mean, really. How could I feel lust when I'd already seen so many bad things today?  For crying out loud, I'd watched the man I'd called my husband for a year die. What was wrong with me?

             
"Did you know Eddie was at Laveau's Lounge the night we first met?" I asked. "I saw him in the vision you showed me."

             
"I know it now, but not when we were first there. I didn't know his role in this thing until much later." Juan stopped to look at me. "He isn't what he seems,
Elizabeth
."

             
"Seemed." I corrected. "He's dead now."

             
Juan frowned.  "Is he?"

             
"Isn't he?" I stared at him confused. "I know you were out of the room a second, doing whatever ghosts do, but Diego shot him."

             
"Did you see any blood?"

             
"Of course I---" I stopped, and thought back to that awful moment. Diego shot him in the chest. I remembered that clearly, but we'd gotten out of there so fast that I didn't really remember seeing any blood.

             
"Your husband claims to be a cop, right?" Juan probed. "Who exactly does he work for?"

             
"The Barataria police force now, but before that he was an undercover cop in
New Orleans
."

             
"And you know that how?"

             
"Because he told me so."

             
"When did he get involved in your case?"

             
"He was one of the people who pulled me out of the life raft the day you died. That's when I first met him. We bonded…and he helped me with the Feds." I tilted my head to the side. "What are you trying to say?"

             
"Think about it. It's too much of a coincidence that he was in Laveau's Lounge
and
one of the cops that picked you up from the lifeboat. He's an agent."

             
"Okay, maybe he is. I mean, what's the big deal? It's no secret the Feds wanted us to stay together. They arranged our fake marriage for protection. Maybe they wanted him to get info out of me."

             
"I didn't say he was an agent for your government." Juan lifted an eyebrow and nodded at me as comprehension dawned. "It may be for the best that he's out of the picture. I'm not sure where his loyalties really lie, but I know one thing for certain. His heart belongs to another."

             
"Who?"

             
How could Eddie be involved with someone else? When did he have time?

             
"Shhh…we can discuss it later." Juan stilled, his body tense. "Do you hear that?"

             
I listened, trying not to dwell on the little patch of jealousy that sliced through me as I thought of Eddie with another woman. At first, I heard nothing, but then there was a low humming sound. After a moment I realized it was drums. Somewhere in the bayou they were being played in a slow, almost intoxicating rhythm. The cadence rose, snaking its way through the night, and making me uneasy. Juan put a finger to his lips and beckoned me to follow. I sucked down another gulp of vodka for courage and tried to keep up with his pace.

             
We stopped at a little cove deep in the bayou. Perched on the land was a boat, what the Cajuns called a pirogue. It's small and used for traveling in the murky bayou waters when a regular sized boat can't do the job. Some of them have motors you can hang over the side to help them move, but this one was pretty crude. All I saw to help maneuver it was a long thick stick.

             
"Uh-uh," I said. "You've got to be kidding. I'm not getting in that boat. We'll sink. Or an alligator will throw us over with one swat of his tail."

             
"It's safe." Juan bent over the boat and pushed it off the bank. "Come on."