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

by Victoria Richards

  "Elizabeth, I am dead."

  Episode 2- Dead Men Do Tell Tales

  Juan observed Diego Martes at the bar, his face hooded in the dim light of Laveau's Lounge. He didn't like the way Diego watched the girls, his lust as obvious as his intentions--get one of them into his bed for the night.

  Juan doubted it would happen though. In his short time observing Diego Martes, he's noticed that something about the man turned women off. Maybe it was the thick mustache or the oily hair always slicked back to his head. Or perhaps it was just that they could see the cruelty in Diego's eyes, and most women were smart enough to get out of his way.

  Most women.

  Juan's eyes flicked to Euralie who was engaged in a tarot card reading for a customer. She hadn't exactly gotten out of Diego's way and it had almost been the end of her. All because of Diego and his obsession with the map.

  Juan wondered if the map could even be real. It was hard to believe that any kind of pirate treasure lurked unattended anywhere in the United States. Then he'd seen the bayous of Barataria and reconsidered the possibilities. There was a reason the old pirate, Jean Lafitte, had settled in the area in the early 1800's. It had easy access to a main waterport and the swamp provided cover for any illicit activities or items that could be kept from prying eyes.

  Still, Juan figured it was a long shot that the treasure hadn't already been looted--curse or not.

  Ah well. That wasn't his problem. Pirate curses, voodoo mumbo jumbo--he just had to get the map and remove Diego Martes from the picture. Forget all that other stuff!

  One of the big stipulations of the job was that Euralie was to be kept out of the loop. The less she knew the better off she was. The man who'd hired Juan twenty four hours ago had been explicit in those instructions and in supplying information on all the things that Diego Martes had done to Euralie. Not that Juan needed details. A job was a job and he'd been working as a paid gunman long enough to know that if the customer had enough money, then who cared about the details? He'd just do the job he'd been hired for and walk away.

  While killing Diego would be no sweat off of Juan's nose, finding the opportunity to get the map was more challenging. It turned out that Diego only had part of it, a fact that Juan's boss had only discovered in the last hour or so. The actual map, which had been handed down from generation to generation, was missing a crucial corner piece, and the rumor was that Euralie had it. She'd torn it off as an act of rebellion, a rebellion that would likely get her killed.

  Not his problem. Protecting Euralie wasn't in the contract, but getting the map was--and that meant getting all of it. So he'd been sitting in Laveau's Lounge waiting for a moment when Diego wasn't lurking around the bar to speak with Euralie. He figured he could charm her into getting the map. Easy Peasy.

  The drunk girls that had entered the club singing some ridiculous pop song had been just the thing Juan needed to distract Diego. Unfortunately, Euralie had zeroed in on one of the girls as a tarot customer. He would have to wait until she was finished reading the cards to make his move.

  Diego Martes leaned against the bar and smiled at one of the women, a stunning brunette. She smiled and nodded back, but then turned her attention back to her friends. Diego frowned and tried again. He motioned for the bartender to bring the girl another drink. She accepted it, but her body stiffened as Diego dropped a too friendly hand on her knee.

  One of the women looked over at the brunette.

  "Carla, you alright down there?"

  Carla removed Diego's hand and stood. "Yeah, Nicole, but we should go back to the hotel soon."

  "And where are you lovely ladies staying?" Diego asked, standing, too.

  "The Bourbon Orleans," one of the other girls called out.

  "A lovely place and full of New Orleans heritage." Diego smiled. "Perhaps I could get you a round of drinks on the house before you go?"

  "You own this place?" Carla sounded like she couldn't quite believe that.

  "Si, it was a recent purchase. One more thing to add to my many holdings."

  The brunette sat back down, some of her frostiness melting away.

  A good lie always placated women, Juan mused. He knew Diego didn't own anything. Not really. He stole what he wanted, including Laveau's Lounge. According to Juan's client, the bar had actually belonged to Euralie until a day ago. He'd used fear and threats of death to take it from her, while continuing to make her read Tarot cards for the tourists. Juan doubted that Euralie got to keep any of the money she made though.

  "What's your name?" Carla asked.

  "Diego Martes."

  "Well, where are you from? I'm betting you aren't a Louisiana native with that accent."

  "You have a good ear, senorita. I am from Mexico. And you, miss? Where do you live?"

  "We're from Texas."

  "Ah, Texas. I know it well."

  Juan listened as Carla and Diego continued to chat. The round of drinks was served, and things might have gone in Diego's favor if one of the other girls hadn't suddenly gotten sick at the bar. She'd stood up as if to go find the ladies room, but then released a stream of alcohol scented vomit all over the floor.

  "Party's over," Carla announced with a frown.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Juan saw the customer with Euralie stand up. Her attention wasn’t focused on her sick friend as she faced the tarot card reader.

  "One of them will kill me?" Juan heard her say. "What kind of fortune teller are you?"

  "I just do as the spirits say and repeat what the cards tell me," Euralie said. "And I said one of them will try to kill you. Doesn't mean they'll succeed."

  "That doesn't make me feel much better." The woman started to move away.

  "Now, now, Cher, don't fret. Sometimes the cards are cranky. Here. You take this one. It's my personal card. We should do another reading in a more private place."

  The woman stared at the card Euralie offered. Juan couldn't see the expression on her face, but her next words had him straining to see her better.

  "This is a business card?" the woman said. "It looks like an old piece of parchment. I don't think I'll be needing it. This is all just a lot of hocus pocus anyway. You should just keep it."

  "Put it in your bag!"

  Juan looked at Euralie. Something in her demeanor had changed. Gone was the sultry expression she usually wore. Her eyes were wide and dilated, her mouth slightly open. A pale green glow surrounded her.

  "Don't be a defiant child," Euralie said, but the timbre of her voice had changed. It was rougher, gravelly almost, and didn't belong in her feminine frame. "Take the paper and start your destiny. You have much to do."

  Euralie blinked and shook her head, almost as if she were trying to focus but couldn't quite manage it. What was wrong with her, Juan wondered.

  "Are you alright?" the woman asked.

  "Yes. I’m sorry. I get these fierce headaches sometimes. That's the tough part of being a medium to the dead." Euralie gave her wan smile. "You need to get going. Your friend is ill."

  The woman turned. Juan had never believed in love at first sight, but his heart sped up as he got a good look at Euralie's customer. She couldn't have been more the 5'6", but something about her whispered of power. Her brow was knitted in frustration and concern. Maybe it was the way she unconsciously lifted her chin a bit as she surveyed the situation going on with her friends or the way she straightened up to her full height before moving forward--he didn't know--but whatever it was worked for her. She moved past him, her long brown dark hair swishing with the rhythm of her hips. In one hand, she clutched the small paper Euralie had given her.

  "Uh-oh. That's a definite party foul," she called to Carla.

  Juan wanted to get a closer look at the paper Euralie had given her. But how?

  "Elizabeth, can you help get Nicole up?" Carla was busy covering the offending vomit with bar napkins.

  Elizabeth. So that was her name. Regal. Somehow exactly right for her.

  "C'mon, sweetie
." Elizabeth draped an arm around the sick girl. "We need to get you back to the hotel. Carla will settle the tab."

  The other two girls in the group giggled and whispered together, watching Elizabeth support Nicole who looked like she could have given Linda Blair a run for her money when it came to projectile vomiting. Carla gave up on cleaning the vomit and threw money on the counter, eager to be gone. As they all staggered out of Laveau's Lounge, Juan glanced at Diego who stood watching the whole thing, a look of disgust on his face.

  "Hold up a second." Elizabeth yanked her purse strap off the shoulder. "I need to put this paper in my purse. It's old and crumbly."

  Diego's face turned from disgusted to thoughtful as the women left the bar. He slanted a look over at Euralie who was stacking up her tarot cards.

  "Euralie," Diego called out. "Who was your pretty customer?"

  "Just a girl looking to be told her fortune like all the other tourists that come in here."

  "And did you tell it to her?" Diego moved closer, running a hand through his hair. He gave her a small smile, revealing yellow teeth.

  "Only what she wanted to hear, of course. You know how these silly drunk girls are. They only want to hear about who will be warming their bed."

  "You gave her something." Diego's force sharpened. "What was in her hand?"

  "Some advice."

  "What did you write it on?"

  "Paper."

  Diego ran a finger softly along her face. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you? Not after all we've meant to each other?"

  Euralie shuddered and dropped her gaze.

  "That wouldn't have been the missing piece of the map would it? The piece you claim not to know anything about? You see, Euralie, I never believed you. I think you tore that piece off yourself." Diego hissed the words and gripped her shoulders tightly. "You don't really think you can outsmart me, do you?"

  "N-n-no. Of course, not," Euralie said, but even Juan could hear the lie in her voice.

  Diego struck her across the face. The other people in the bar looked over at the scene, startled. Some of them even started to move forward to help her. The blond haired man at the far table had leapt to his feet, anger turning his face a deep red of outrage.

  "I'll deal with you later," Diego spoke through clenched teeth. "Right now, I need to get that piece of the map back. You better hope she didn't just toss it into the street."

  He strode from the bar. After a moment, Juan Carlos followed him.

  ****

  I let go of Juan’s hand, the vividness of the past overwhelming. My palm burned a little where the gold coin rested. Juan pocketed it and I rubbed at the spot where it had been.

  “How did you do that? It was like I was right there, inside your head,” I asked. "I could practically smell Bourbon Street. And your thoughts! I could hear them. I knew exactly how you were feeling."

  And boy, had I been surprised at how he felt about me. It's nice to know every now and then that you can light a man's fire without even realizing it! I couldn't dwell on that though. There were too many other things to process like Diego and Euralie and their relationship. And that blonde haired man, he looked familiar, though I couldn’t put a name to him. And the piece of the map that Euralie had given me. It had been crucial to…something. The memories stalled.

  “It’s a perk of being dead. I get superpowers now.” He smiled, but I couldn’t do the same.

  Dead? I’d heard him that say just before the past sucked me in. But how could that be? I had held his hand in mine, squeezed it, felt the warmth of his chest as I cried. This was no dead man.

  “You’re lying.”

  “I only wish that I was.”

  “Nobody gets superpowers when they die. If they did, we’d have ghost galore in the world.”

  “I admit that it wasn't an easy thing to achieve. I had to make a deal with a powerful spirit in order to come back and protect you. You have the key to finding the treasure.”

  “Protect me? From what? And I don't have any key! This is all just a trick, isn't it? I want you to prove you're dead! Disappear and then reappear.”

  “Elizabeth, we don’t have time for these childish games.”

  “Yes, we do. After the things I’ve felt these last two years, we have time for at least one childish game.” I knew he was probably right. Still, I pressed on. “Disappear and then reappear!”

  "I could show you in another way that I've got super powers, if you like." Juan lifted one eyebrow suggestively. "I seem to recall you liked a little role playing."

  A delicious little shiver ran through my body, and flashes of the dreams I sometimes had about him at night came back to me. As he leaned closer, I held my breath. He paused inches away from my lips, his eyes locked to mine. My heart was pounding and a part of me wanted to scream, Go on! Kiss me! For a moment, I thought he wasn't going to follow through, that he was just teasing me, but then his lips touched mine.

  Desire surged, tickling my senses, tugging at the most sensitive parts of my body. One of Juan's hands found its way into my hair, pulling me closer and making the kiss deeper, more exquisite. Somehow I found myself lying back on the couch, his body pressed against mine, able to feel the hardness of his muscles through his shirt as my hands ran along his back.

  I wanted so much more.

  My hands jerked at the back of his shirt, trying to pull it free from his body. I wanted skin on skin contact, needed to feel the heat of him against me. How else would I know that he was real, that he was alive, that he'd come back for me? With a soft chuckle, Juan tugged the shirt off and threw it to the floor, giving me a glimpse of tight, sculpted abs. His dark hair fell all around his broad shoulders and as he bent down to me, it created a soft curtain that blocked the world out.

  He planted his mouth on my neck, creating a hot trail of desire as he made his way down to my collar bone. Juan opened a couple of the top buttons of my blouse with his teeth, and I sucked in my breath, waiting for him to do more. Pushing back the cup of my bra, he tongued my nipple, causing my heart and mind to go crazy. I couldn't help the moan that escaped me.

  The front door lock jangled.

  I jerked away from Juan like a guilty teenager, and though it wasn’t my parents on the other side of the door, I knew the person coming in would not be thrilled about a dead guy hanging around the living room.

  Eddie has always been very close-minded about that sort of thing.

  “Quick,” I said, thinking I could shove Juan into a closet, but there was no need for my Three’s Company antics. Juan was gone. One minute he'd been on top of me, the next he'd vanished. Even the shirt he'd so casually tossed to the floor had disappeared. Swishing my fingers through the space he’d occupied, I felt a cold spot. “Wow. Just like on Ghost Hunters.”

  There wasn’t time to investigate further. It was all I could do to try and pull myself together as my husband came in the house.

  “Hi, Elizabeth,” Eddie greeted me as he opened the door. “Are you okay?”

  “Uh-huh. I'm great!" My enthusiasm may have been a little over the top.

  “You look…flushed.” He looked at my blouse. "Did you forget to button your shirt this morning?"

  Damn! The top two buttons were still undone and the lace of my bra could be seen. With clumsy fingers, I fixed that.

  “I’m fine. Really. I was just thinking about having a glass of wine. The very thought just got me overexcited.”

  “Hmmm….did you take the gun out of your purse?”

  I held it up from where Juan had put it on the coffee table. Eddie nodded his head, still looking at me, emotions flickering across his face. What they were, I couldn't quite decipher. Most of the time I think Eddie's an open book, but I knew there must be things about him that I didn't know. He was an undercover cop before hooking up with me. I always assumed he had interesting stories to tell but oddly, he never really shared much about his past. Eddie was comfortable. I trusted him. And now that my heartbeat was settling down and strength
was coming back into my legs, I felt a little guilty. I mean, I am a married woman and I'd just "made out" with another man in the living room! He'd had his mouth on my nipple!

  I guess I should explain about our marriage of convenience. We don’t have sex, and we didn’t get married for love, although there are times…well, I think there could be more. Sure, I knew Eddie was assigned the duty of watching over me by the Feds, but he'd done his job well. He became a close friend, and I couldn’t have gotten through that first year without him. The paranoia would have swallowed me. When he asked me to marry him, at first I thought he was serious. But he explained that the government thought it would be a good next step for them.

  Not for us. For them.

  "You'd only have to be married a few years," Agent Pemberton, one of my least favorites of all the Feds who interviewed me, explained. He always looked at me like I was a complete idiot. "If in that time things die down and nothing happens, you can get a divorce. Besides, the monetary compensation we are providing you with should keep you in financial security for the rest of your life."

  "What things need to die down? It's not like I can remember what happened to me in the first place," I asked. "I hit my head during the helicopter explosion. That's what brought on this amnesia."

  "Look, Elizabeth, we're going to level with you." Pemberton leaned forward. "We've been after Diego Martes for years for money laundering. We believe that a prize like the treasure Martes has indicated you found with your…friend…Juan will help us arrest him. It's too tempting of reward for someone like him to give up on. You are the only person still living who saw it besides Martes, and we think he'll try to enlist your aid to retrieve it. Problem is, Diego isn't known for his kindness towards women, and since you can't seem to remember anything that can help us out, that makes the situation all the more difficult when it comes to providing protection for you."

  As if I needed to be reminded.

  But after hearing that, I said yes to Eddie, though a part of me was disappointed that it wasn’t a real proposal. In another time and place, I would have snatched a guy like Eddie up and sunk my woman claws into him until he begged for mercy. But it’s hard to think like that when you know he’s only asking you to marry him because his boss is making him.