by John Moore
I received a call from Sophia. “Hi, Sophia, are you back in Paris?”
“Yes, Alexandra. It is beautiful this time of year. Congratulations on getting custody of Piper,” she said. “I’m calling to give you a heads-up. The Indian government has dropped all charges against Bart Rogan. He is free to leave India any time he chooses. I don’t know any of the details, but you can bet money changed hands somewhere. I thought you’d want to know. Bye.”
Holy shit, I thought, I hope that asshole has learned his lesson and will leave us alone. We’ve had enough trouble to last a lifetime. I wanted to have a normal life and enjoy my normal family. Wow, who was I kidding? There was nothing normal about us.
Tom chose to curtail his environmental protests for a while and concentrate on family life. We enrolled Piper in a private school with a strong computer science program, and I spent my days working on my business. Mandy Morris tried to persuade me to stay involved with Superior Sugar, but I just couldn’t. Zach had educated me on the addictive nature of sugar and its contribution to the obesity crisis around the world. He convinced me it contributed to drug abuse. I preferred to help promote our organic vegetables and stevia.
“OK, Alexandra,” Mandy said. “At least stay in touch with me. Piper loves the haunted tours, and she can tag along anytime.”
I wasn’t too sure about letting Piper around Mandy. She and her group seemed unusually weird even by New Orleans standards. Something wasn’t right about them. Mandy continued to visit Bob Broussard every week. I didn’t want Piper sneaking off with her to see that serial killer. He’d killed seven women and his own mother. He was right where he needed to be in a psychiatric prison, and Piper was better off hanging out with kids her own age.
Life was going well for a change. Then late one night I got a call. I answered my phone without even thinking to check the caller ID.
“Hello, this is Alexandra,” I said.
“Hi, Alexandra, this is Bob Broussard. I was in the neighborhood today and I almost stopped in to see you. I would love to catch up sometime and talk about our common interests.”
I sat up straight in bed. Oh shit. Bob Broussard calling me? He must have gotten out of the mental institution somehow. That can’t be good.
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About the Author
John Moore was born in Louisiana. His grandmother’s ancestor’s roots were planted before the Civil War. His grandfather emigrated from Italy to open a family grocery store in the early 1900s. His mother married a military man who adopted him and his two brothers. The family lived in several states like most military families do. John pursued careers that enabled him to travel the world, and he gained a deep appreciation of cultural differences. He settled in South Louisiana to enjoy the warmth of Southern living and pursue his writing career.
The Crescent City Murders
A Three Book Series
If you enjoyed The Devil Always Collects and
Chasing Shadow Demons be sure to check out
the third book in the series, Return of the Devil’s Spawns.
Visit John Moore’s website www.johnmooreauthor.com
to learn more.