Voodoo Love (And the Curse of Jean Lafitte’s Treasure) (8 page)

             
“Are you okay?” Eddie asked as we sat down to our chicken.

             
“Yeah." I tried to eat, but all I could do was push the food around on my plate.

             
“I know you must be nervous with Martes around someplace,” Eddie said. “You sure you haven’t seen anything unusual today?”

             
Well…let’s see. Had I seen anything unusual? Nothing much, honey, just the ghost of the man I’d been feeling guilt over for the last two year. I'd begun experiencing weird visions of the past that terrified me in their intensity. No biggie…

             
“Nope, nothing new," I said, hoping it came out sounding natural.

             
“And there’s nothing you’ve been holding back?”

             
Okay. Time to put the cards on the table. I trusted Eddie. He would know what to do about Juan Carlos.

             
“I saw Juan Carlos today.”  Eddie’s eyebrows lifted, unsure of what I meant. “He was at the grocery store and then in our living room.”

             
Eddie looked towards the living room, doubtful.  “He still in there?”

             
“No. But I did see him in the bedroom a few minutes ago.”

             
“Um…
Elizabeth
, you remember that he’s dead right?”

             
“I remember.”

             
Eddie studied me, maybe wondering just how far off into the deep end of crazy I’d slipped. I’m sure he thought the news about Diego Martes looking for me was messing with my mind. 

             
“
Elizabeth
, do you need to lie down some more?”

             
“No." I shot back, frustrated. "Do you?"

             
“No, but I’m not seeing dead guys in our living room. What did he say he wanted?”

             
“The key.” I kept my voice low. “To finding the treasure.”

             
“Elizabeth,” Eddie’s voice sharpened and he leaned in, matching my tone. “What is it?”

             
Eddie looked different to me, and there was something about his eyes that bothered me. There was a cunning there that I hadn't seen before. An image from my memories came back to me, clicking together like a weird puzzle piece.

             
Eddie had been in Laveau's Lounge the night I'd met Juan.
He'd been the blonde man who'd started to come to Euralie's defense when Diego slapped her. How had I not recognized him earlier? More importantly, what did it mean?

             
“
Elizabeth
, you have to tell me about it." He pressed when I didn't say anything. "It might be the key to getting on with our lives. Once the Feds know where the treasure is, it’s all over. We give them what they want and they will get off our backs. Then we can move on. Wouldn’t that be great? To live without the constant worry hanging over our heads?”

             
“Of course it would, but Eddie, I don't know what Juan is talking about. I don't have a key."

             
“Are you sure?” There was just a hint of anger in his tone.

             
Before I could answer, a loud knock at the front door interrupted us. Both of us looked in the direction it had come, wondering what was going on now. It had to be a neighbor though. Bad guys rarely knock.

             
“Go check and see who it is,” Eddie requested. “We should appear normal. If anyone is watching the house, they’ll know something is up if we don’t answer.”

             
“Okay,” I said, feeling the beginning of nervous butterflies in my stomach. My head was spinning with information overload.

             
“I’m right behind you.” Eddie pulled out his gun. “I've got you covered."

             
Unfortunately, that didn't make me feel better anymore.

             
I looked through the peephole and saw my neighbor, Ellen Elderbee standing there.

             
"It's just Ellen," I called over my shoulder to Eddie. "Do I have to answer it?"

             
"Yes. And be nice!" I heard him move down the hall towards our bedroom.

             
"Hi, Ellen," I said as I opened the door. "This isn't really a good time for a visit."

             
"Elizabeth Brown, you are a hussy and I've come to make sure your husband knows it!" The woman brushed past me, her short gray hair standing on end. As usual she wore her "gossipy neighbor" uniform--slacks, a striped blouse that somehow survived the seventies, and scuffed sandals. "I saw that man on your back porch today, and I know what he left there."

             
"It was a bottle of wine, Ellen."

             
"From your boyfriend! Where is Eddie? I want to tell on you! He has a right to know, you cheating harlot."

             
"Close the door, Ellen. The whole neighborhood doesn't need to hear this conversation."

             
"Don't you boss me around, young lady. The whole neighborhood knows you are a tramp with a capital T!"

             
Oh my god. Where the hell was Eddie? He needed to get out here and deal with this. After the afternoon I'd had the last thing I needed was to be called names by stupid Ellen Elderbee. I mean, c'mon!

             
There was a pop. Ellen looked at me, confused. A trickle of blood slid down the side of her face. It dripped on the brown collar of her shirt, and then she fell forward, landing on the living room floor face first. I’m sure it would have hurt her if she hadn’t already been dead.

             
Diego Martes stood in the open doorway.

             
“Did you like the wine?" he asked, moving inside and shutting the door. "And the card?  I thought it would remind you of old times.”

So Diego had put the wine on the back porch. That possibility had not occurred to me. I didn’t have time to reflect on this information though.

Someone moved behind me, and Diego's eyes widened, surprised.

"You are supposed to be dead," he said.

"I don't believe in meeting everyone's expectations." Juan's voice sounded cool and confidant, giving me the strength not to fall apart right there.

Before anything else could be said, Eddie ran in from the kitchen, surprising Diego with a tackle. Both men fell to the ground, grappling for the gun.

"Run,
Elizabeth
!" Eddie shouted.

I started to do just that, but Juan stopped me.

             
“Before I let go of the raft two years ago, I tossed a wrist beacon inside it. Remember? It has a little strobe on it. It's how the Coast Guard was able to locate you. I know you kept it.”

             
"Can't we talk about this later? I'm kind of running for my life here!"

             
"It has something important in it! Go get it!"

             
So instead of turning tail and running, I headed to my bedroom. The locator beacon. It was a small thing, and I don’t know why I kept it. No one ever asked about it. I guess in the confusion of the rescue it was just forgotten.

             
I slammed and locked the bedroom door, knowing it would buy a little time. Rummaging through the top drawer of my dresser, I found it just as the door handle began to jiggle.

             
“We need to get out of here.” Juan materialized next to me.

             
“Really? I thought we'd hang out and have a barbeque!" I glared. "What about Eddie?”

             
A gun blast blew the door handle off. Diego pushed through the door, one arm wrapped around Eddie's neck. In his other hand he pressed a gun to Eddie's head. There was anger in my husband's blue eyes and a large bruise was forming on his temple.

             
“Where is he?” Diego asked, his eyes surveying the room. Two years had not changed him much. He still had slicked black hair and yellow teeth which stood out against the smooth brown of his skin.

             
“Where is who?”

             
“That son of a bitch, Juan Carlos. Where is he?”

             
“He’s dead.”

             
“Don’t play games. Your husband’s life is at stake here. Where is Juan? I saw him just now.” Diego eyed the locator beacon that dangled in my hand. I had forgotten that I still clutched it. Quickly, I tucked it into my pocket as I looked around the room. Once again Juan had vanished. How convenient.

             
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why don’t you let Eddie go and we can sit down, discuss it like civilized people,” I said.

             
But I remembered too late that there is nothing civilized about Diego Martes. He doesn't bargain or negotiate. With a grunt, he shoved my husband to the ground and then did the unthinkable.

             
He raised his gun and shot Eddie.

             
Have you ever rode on one of those playground merry go rounds? The kind that gets you really dizzy, as if the ground is coming up to meet you when you try to get off of it? That's how I felt when I saw Diego shoot Eddie. Like the gravity in my world had been reversed. As if the air had been sucked away and all I had left was this awful spinning sensation. There wasn't even time to wrap my brain around it because Diego turned the gun towards me.

             
"You're coming with me," he said coldly. "Time to go treasure hunting."

             
I looked around the room, desperate for Juan Carlos, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. Damn ghost. And here I thought he was supposed to be protecting me.

             
Terrified and shaking, I nodded at Diego and followed him away from the bedroom, away from Eddie who'd done nothing but take care of me the past two years. True, my newly discovered memories showed that he hadn't been entirely honest. He'd been in Laveau's Lounge the night I'd first met Juan Carlos, the night I'd somehow gotten dragged into this whole pirate treasure thing. Why had he never mentioned that before? What could that mean?