Winds of the Storm (14 page)

“Go on in. He's inside.”

“Thank you.”

The tiny place was lit by a stub of a candle that cast a wavering glow over a man seated on a stump. The candle was on a large rock near his feet. When she entered, he rose, and she saw that he was of medium height with a small build. “I'm Henry Adams.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Shall I call you Domino?”

“That's acceptable.”

“Araminta has cast you as the spider in the web, I hear.”

Zahra nodded. She liked his description. “And what role do you play?”

“I bring food to the spider to pass along the web.”

“I see. And what do you bring today?”

“News from across the South and from Kansas.”

For the next half hour, Zahra listened as Adams related troubling news. The hopes of Reconstruction were all but dead. From Mississippi to South Carolina to Texas and Tennessee, the race was under siege. To Zahra's surprise, he talked of a group of veterans who, over the past year, had gone to every Southern state in the Union to assess the conditions the freedmen were facing.

“How many of you are there?”

“We started out with five hundred, but only one hundred and fifty do the actual traveling.”

“And your people are all common folk?”

He smiled. “Yes. No
politicianers
of any color. We figured if we told the Black Republicans, it wouldn't be long before one of them told a White Republican and soon the White Leagues would be after us.”

Zahra agreed with his assessment. An undertaking of such magnitude was not something to be bandied about over cognac and squab. The killing of Black leaders had come to be called
bulldozing;
had the identities of Adams's men gotten out, they might very well have been the next victims in a long and bloody line. “What have you found?”

“That the freedmen are being cheated out of their wages and crops, made to work sometimes for no wages at all, and that more and more of our people are being terrorized by day and by night. Tens of thousands have been killed, and the county courthouses are filled with Black widows coming to report the murders of their men. We've also uncovered something even more unsettling. Death Books.”

Zahra had never heard the term before. “What are they?”

“Books holding the names of the men the Kluxers and the Leagues plan to bulldoze.”

The hairs stood up on the back of Zahra's neck. “How widespread is this?”

“As widespread as the lynchings. I need you to get word to Araminta and her friends to be on their guard. My volunteers pose as drifters, laborers, small farmers, and we've never made ourselves known to anyone outside of our circle. We don't plan to change, so we need a spider.”

Zahra understood. That as many as five hundred Black men were acting as shadowy investigators right under the noses of both the government and the supremacist groups earned her admiration. The Death Books were troubling, however. Were there Death Books in New Orleans, and if so, whose names were listed? She'd start sending coded messages out to Araminta and the others as soon as she returned to the house. “Is there anything else you wish me to relay?”

“Only that we have members in Kansas assessing conditions there. They are touring town sites, weighing housing possibilities, and discreetly buying land. The race may need to flee the South, and we must have a place to go.”

“So you are considering Kansas.”

“And Nebraska and Colorado. Even as far west as California. We must and will survive.”

 

As she promised Henry Adams, Zahra sent coded messages by way of Wilma to all of the contacts on Araminta's list. Zahra also sent some of her house's staff back to their homes across the South to relay information to their local leaders firsthand about the dreaded Death Books. She and Alfred planned to find out if any existed in New Orleans or the surrounding parishes. Were she able to present one of the books to the president, it might go a long way in convincing him of the race's plight and of the necessity of keeping the troops in Louisiana.

The crowds visiting Madame Domino's Gentleman's Club had started to fall off a bit, but
Zahra didn't mind. The core of fifty men she considered regulars were wealthy enough to pay the thirty-dollar entrance fee night after night and still have ample funds left to gamble, pay for the girls, and buy drinks. One was a man named Mitchell Isenbaum. He was a Democrat, and Matilda was his girl of choice. According to her, Isenbaum boasted of ties to the White League. Zahra encouraged Matilda to learn as much as she could about him, discreetly of course, and to report back.

Zahra didn't see Isenbaum in the club that evening, but she did see Etienne Barber. According to Archer the man was a carpet bagger, and Zahra had no use for anyone who preyed on the race. However, she was the hostess here and Barber was a paying customer so seeing him approaching her now, she pasted on an encouraging smile and waited for him to reach her side.

He bowed. “Good evening, Domino.”

“Good evening, Mr. Barber.”

“Etienne, please.”

She inclined her sapphire blue mask. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“As always, but I'd enjoy it more if you would waltz with me.”

She could hear the strains of a waltz rise over the sound of glasses, voices and laughter. “I'd love to,” she lied and wondered if he'd paid the musicians to play the selection.

He was an adequate dancer but his breath smelled of cigars and drink. His hand on her waist was tighter than she cared for and every-time he turned her he pressed his body against
hers suggestively. “Would you like to spend the weekend at my cabin on Lake Ponchatrain.”

She smiled up at his gaunt pocked face. “Haven't we discussed this before, Etienne?”

He smiled, showing off a set of brown mishapen teeth, “But I'd hoped you'd changed your mind.”

“I haven't, sorry.”

As they continued to dance their eyes held and she saw his jaw tense. His hold on her waist tightened painfully and he pulled her flush against him. “I'd think a wealthy man like myself would be just what you're after,” he countered coldy.

She tried to back away but he was stronger.

“I may not be Creole but I'm good enough for the likes of you.”

“Good evening, Domino. Etienne.”

The brittle voice belonged to Archer.

Barber released her immediately.

Zahra stared up at him angrily. “Get out or I'll have Alfred throw you out.”

He was glaring down. She didn't care. The men nearby were watching curiously. She didn't care about them either.

Barber's chin rose as he met Archer's wintry eyes.

Archer said to Zahra, “The giant sent me to fetch you. He has something he wants you to see. Excuse us, Etienne.”

Archer escorted her towards the staircase and once they were out of earshot of the still ogling customers, he said, “I will kill him for you, if you'd like.”

She started to smile but his face was set so seriously she stopped and searched his face. He remained silent. For the first time Zahra sensed the dangerous man beneath the charm. Archer Le Veq was far more faceted than she'd believed. “The next time it happens we'll flip a coin.”

He smiled.

When they entered her office she could see Alfred was upset. “What's happened?”

He held up a small dirty drawstring bag.

Zahra looked on curiously.

“It's filled with bones. Old bones. Mr. Le Veq thinks it's juju.”

Zahra turned to Archer. “As in voodoo?”

He nodded.

Alfred said, “Found another just like it yesterday.”

Zahra was puzzled. Of course this was New Orleans and some of its citizens set much faith in the mysterious practices but she had no idea who might have left the bag. “Do you think it was left for me or for the house?”

Archer shrugged. “You've apparently made an enemy.”

“So what do I do?” She'd never had to deal with something like this before.

Alfred said, “I'm going to keep a close eye on the place for the next few days. Maybe we can catch whoever's responsible.”

“Good idea.”

Archer turned to Alfred and said, “I'd suggest you also keep an eye on Etienne Barber. He was being very aggressive with Domino when I walked up.”

Alfred looked to her. “Did he harm you?”

“No, but we may have to bar him if he does it again.”

“I'll go speak with him and make certain he understands.”

“Thank you.”

“What do you wish done with the bones?”

“Burn them.” Archer answered first.

Zahra was surprised by that.

Alfred nodded. Taking the bag, he said, “Will do. Then I'll find Barber.”

He left and closed the office door behind him.

“Thank you for intervening with Barber,” she said to Archer sincerely.

“My pleasure.”

“Do you think he may be the one responsible for the bones?”

“There's no way of knowing at this point.”

He was right, of course.

Archer told her, “I have to go up to Baton Rouge for a couple of days. Republican Party business.”

“That's not too long.”

“Long enough when you'd rather be with a beautiful lady.”

The sensual memories of all they'd shared rolled over Zahra like an ocean wave. “Will you think of me while you're away?”

“Probably day and night.”

She smiled. “When are you leaving?”

“I should be already gone but I wanted to stop by and let you know. I'm glad I did.”

She closed the distance between them. “So am I.”

A beat later they were sharing a passionate
kiss and Zahra wondered if there would ever be another man in her life whose embrace felt so right.

When the kiss ended, he placed a parting kiss on her brow. “Take care of yourself while I'm away.”

“Yes, sir.”

He grinned, gave her one more simmering kiss then departed.

Before Archer left town he stopped by Lynette's apartment. He knew it was late but he needed to speak with her. They hadn't spoken since the severing of their relationship.

His firm knocks on her door were answered by her a few moments later. She looked sleepy and when she saw him on the threshold her face became sullen. “What do you want at this hour? You're no longer sharing my bed, remember?”

Archer ignored that. “Someone is leaving ju ju bags at Domino's. Do you know anything about them.”

“Of course not.” She slammed the door shut again.

Tight-lipped, Archer walked back to his barouche.

 

Etienne Barber must have taken Alfred's talk with him to heart because he sent Zahra flowers every morning for the next two days. This morning, the third day since since the incident, another spray arrived. The arrangements were very beautiful, but she didn't want flowers or anything else from him. Even though he was spending a small fortune on flowers Zahra was not impressed. At
least he'd gotten the message that he couldn't deliver them to her personally as he attempted to do the first day. Zahra was grateful for her giant Alfred and his grim manner because had he not been around to stop Barber at the door, the man might have pushed his way into the house and Zahra would have been forced to shoot the carpet bagger.

Taking the flowers into the kitchen, she added them to the other bloom-filled vases obscuring the dining table.

When Barber arrived at the house that night, the place was fairly crowded. Zahra managed to avoid him for a time, but he finally cornered her in her office. Not pleased that he'd entered her sanctuary uninvited and unannounced, she said pleasantly through her displeasure, “Guests aren't allowed in here, Mr. Barber.”

He closed the door behind him. “Did you receive the morning's flowers?”

Even more displeased that he'd had the audacity to close the door, she replied, “Yes, I did, and as always, they were beautiful.” With the lower half of her body hidden behind the desk, it was easy for her to reach into the hidden pocket of her indigo gown and slide her pistol out unseen. Although she wondered about Alfred's whereabouts, she knew she could handle Barber on her own should it become necessary to do so. “I have some work needing attention. I will see you later, Mr. Barber.”

“No, you will see me now.” He reached back and threw the lock. “You're a whore, nothing more, and if I have to have you by force, I will.”

She shook her head at his male stupidity. “Now that you've locked the door, Mr. Barber, there is no way for you to escape.”

“Escape what?”

She raised the gun. “This.”

He froze.

“Now, are you going to leave as I asked?”

“You won't shoot me.”

The ball that exploded from the gun hit him in the shoulder and spun him to the carpet. He screamed in pain. Lips pursed angrily, Zahra stood and came around the desk just as the door splintered and Alfred burst in.

“Find out if there's a doctor here tonight,” Zahra spat out. “Then escort this
waa'ment
out.” She was so angry that she had unconsciously slipped into Gullah, her father's tongue.

As if he understood the intent of the foreign-sounding word, Alfred replied, “My pleasure.”

He yanked Barber up, which caused the wounded man to cry out again. “You bitch,” he spat at Zahra.

She responded easily, “But I'm an armed bitch. Remember that for the future.”

Alfred threw him roughly towards the splintered door. “Let's go.”

On the heels of their exit, an angry Zahra sat back down and placed the pistol on the desk. She looked up to see Matilda and Stella shooing away the curious crowd that had gathered outside the door. The only man who remained was Archer Le Veq.

He stuck his handsome head in through the hole in the door and said, “Good evening, Domino.”