by Donna Grant
“Is it common for Davena Arcineaux to have an obituary on the same day? To have died the same day as her sister?” Ava asked.
Beau felt that knot in his stomach tighten. “How did they die?”
Ava pulled off her glasses and looked up at him. “A fire. The mother, Babette Arcineaux, was suspected of being killed in the same fire.”
Fire. There had been smoke in his dream. Or at least he had thought he smelled smoke when he woke.
“There’s no mother with them,” Olivia said.
Lincoln shifted lower in the chair. “It could be just like Christian said. Two women looking for a change of pace find an obituary with the names of two young sisters and take them.”
Ava set her glasses aside on the couch. “Except that Davena was seventeen at the time, and Delia eighteen when they died. That matches the Davena and Delia here.”
“Were there only three bodies found in the burned house?” Vincent asked.
“There were no bodies,” Ava said. “The fire was so intense there was nothing left to identify. The house was reduced to ashes. When the girls and the mother weren’t located, everyone assumed they were in the house.”
“What if they weren’t?” Olivia said.
Christian walked to the fireplace and put his back to the mantel. “You mean, what if they weren’t ever in the house? Why not just tell the authorities where they were?”
“Because they couldn’t,” Beau said.
Silence lengthened, each lost in thought.
It was Lincoln who broke the quiet. “Has the mother been seen?”
Ava put her glasses back on and punched the keyboard some more. Another ten minutes went by before she gave a shake of her head. “Nothing. None of her credit cards have been used, and no money has been withdrawn from her bank account.”
“The mother could’ve been in the house,” Olivia. “She might really be dead.”
Vincent walked to the couch and sat on the arm next to Olivia. “It’s a possibility.”
“That leaves the only reason the girls wouldn’t step forward to let others know they weren’t dead. They’re running from someone,” Christian said.
“Or something,” Beau added.
Lincoln sat up and leaned forward. “Ava, do a search on that new family now. Last name Dumas. Father’s name is Frank, mother’s is Liz.”
While everyone was focused on Ava, Beau quietly punched in Davena’s name and New Orleans and searched. In a blink, links and photos popped up on the page.
Staring at him was a photo of Davena her freshman year of high school in a cheerleader uniform at a football game. Her green eyes were clear and innocent, and though the ones he had looked into a few days ago were older and warier, they were still the same eyes that matched the same smile, and the same golden hair.
She and her sister hadn’t stolen the names. They were Davena and Delia Arcineaux. He suddenly wanted to know what they were hiding from? More than anything, he wanted to be the one to help her.
Idiot. You want to save her so you can bring her into your life and the Chiasson family business? She’s better off left on her own.
There was no denying the truth of it. He would help her if she and her sister were the ones in danger, but he would keep his distance.
“There’s no record of Frank and Liz Dumas or their children anywhere,” Ava said. She looked up at all of them. “They seem to have appeared out of thin air.”
Christian crossed his arms over his chest. “Witness Protection Program, perhaps?”
“As if,” Lincoln said. “We found our culprits. The Arcineaux sisters are intriguing, but it’s the Dumas family we need to dig deeper on.”
“I agree,” Vincent set.
Christian rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Beau exited his search and shut the laptop. “Where do we start?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Davena sat against the headboard with her knees hugging her chest. Delia hadn’t said two words to her the entire day, and no matter how she tried, Delia wouldn’t relent. If anyone should be upset, it should be her, not Delia. Davena glanced over the side of the bed to where her bag was packed. Everything she owned was in that bag.
If asked six years ago if she could live without her iPod, makeup, clothes, and dozens of friends, she’d have said never. After that one life-changing night, she discovered what the important things were.
It wasn’t makeup, hairstyles, or clothes. It was money and food and having a safe place to rest her head. She had gone from wearing designer clothes to digging through restaurant garbage for food.
Her iPod, laptop, and even her cell phone were forgotten. No longer did she spend twenty dollars on one meal. Instead, she and Delia made twenty last several days between the two of them.
It brought home what the essentials where – and what was wasteful. Did she often dream of walking into a mall and spending the day shopping? Often. She knew her clothes weren’t the latest styles, but they were clean and in good condition. It was a rare event when she and Delia would stop off at Goodwill and rummage through the clothes others had so easily discarded – some still with price tags on them.
Makeup was an indulgent extravagance she only allowed herself a small portion of. Blush, eyeliner, and mascara. As for her hair, there wasn’t much she could do with it anyway.
She used to spend hours trying to get it to curl, spending her mother’s money on products and tools to get just the right hairstyle. Now, Davena let it go to its natural state – board straight.
A sigh escaped as she rested her chin on her knees. Her body vibrated with the need to leave the area, but she couldn’t seem to make herself walk away from her sister. As angry as Delia made her more often than not, they were the only family each of them had.
Leave? She couldn’t do it. Whatever might be coming for them, they would face it together.
Davena lifted the covers and settled on her back. Her gaze locked on the ceiling, but it wasn’t the square tiles she saw, it was bright blue eyes and chin length dark hair.
“Beau Chiasson,” she whispered.
She discreetly asked around about the Chiassons, trying not to let anyone know it was Beau she was interested in. Somehow everyone seemed to know. If they didn’t outright guess it was Beau, they made it clear that Vincent and Lincoln were taken.
What was really odd was how they were so protective of the Chiassons, and yet, they seemed to fear them, as well. It reminded Davena of how the people of Algiers had treated her mother.
At least there was no fear of the Chiassons practicing Voodoo or Hoodoo. That thought brought a smile to her face. They may still be in the bayous of Louisiana, but there was no one attempting Voodoo in Crowley.
Davena touched the wound on her head. It was still tender, the bruise turning a nasty shade of blue-black. The smile disappeared as she remembered what had made her urge Delia to leave. How long did they have? A few weeks? One week? A day? Something was coming for them, whether it was Delphine herself or one of her lackeys, Davena and Delia weren’t long for this world.
What did she have to lose going after Beau? If he didn’t want her, she would have lost nothing. If he did...then it was a small piece of pleasure in an otherwise hellish world. Only a fool would let something like that pass.
And her mother hadn’t raised a fool.
Deciding to do it, and actually carrying through with her plan to kiss Beau was something altogether different. Impending death, however, put things into perspective.
She had been fool enough to believe she would be able to lead an ordinary life, regardless of who her mother was. And her dear mother had allowed that belief to grow. The truth was that there was nothing normal or typical about them.
The last time she kissed a boy was the night her mother had died. Her boyfriend of more than a year had taken her on a date, except they hadn’t gone to a restaurant. They had ended up on the banks of the Mississippi River where she had given him her virginity.
Th
ere had been one other instance during the past years where a man had pursued her. Davena had been so lonely that she had almost stayed with him. Where she kept her distance from men, Delia was the opposite. She would find one she was interested in, get him into bed, and then promptly ignore him the next day. It was her flippant attitude that had guys continuing to come after her.
Their mother’s murder, and their close call with death had changed both sisters drastically. Neither was who they had been. The scars they bore were hidden within them. They were deeper, longer than the one on Davena’s palm.
She fisted her scarred hand and rolled onto her side. Her gaze went to the door where she saw lights coming from the living room. She almost got up and tried to talk to Delia again, but she was tired of arguing. A good night’s sleep would clear her mind.
Davena closed her eyes hoping for sleep. All she found were fantasies revolving around her and Beau.
~ ~ ~
Beau waited until he knew everyone had taken his or her beds and the house was quiet before he pulled his laptop from beneath his bed and quickly did a search for Davena again. He knew it wasn’t a good sign that he couldn’t get enough of her.
If he couldn’t have Davena, the next best thing was a picture. He clicked on the images, scrolling through each one where she was wearing a brilliant smile. A few she was by herself. More often than not, she was with other girls, and some she was with a boy. He wore a letterman jacket and had short blond hair.
There wasn’t a single picture of her newer than six years ago. It was like she dropped off the face of the earth. He couldn’t help but wonder who had killed her mother. That’s when he remembered that there was someone who might know more about the event. He reached for his cell phone and held it in his hand as he debated on whether to place the call or not.
He shoved aside his reservations and quickly dialed. With the phone to his ear, he listened to it ring once, twice.
On the third ring a deep voice answered over loud music, “It better be important for you to interrupt the plans I had tonight.”
“She’ll wait,” Beau said with a smile.
The laugh was boisterous as the music faded with Court walking out of the pub he and his brothers owned called Gator Bait. “What can I do for you, cousin?”
Beau licked his lips. “Court, I need you to remember back six years ago.”
“I’ll try. What’s this about?”
“A fire that burned a house and the women inside to ash. It was in Algiers.”
There was a pregnant pause before Beau heard Court’s loud sigh. “Ah, fuck. I wish I could forget that night. That was Babette Arcineaux’s house. She and her daughters were killed.”
Beau removed the computer from his lap and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Was the fire an accident?”
“Not even close. Babette was a good woman. Unfortunately, she acquired a powerful enemy.”
“Who?”
“Delphine.”
Beau briefly closed his eyes. “The same Delphine that cursed Kane?”
“The very bitch,” Court said, hatred dripping from his voice. “Why are you asking about something that happened six years ago? Does this involve Ava? Delphine swore to leave her alone.”
“No,” Beau hurried to explain. “Ava is doing fine so no need to worry her father. Delphine hasn’t bothered her since y’all took care of things in New Orleans.”
“What is family for? Besides, Delphine sent my brother after Ava.”
“How is Kane?” Beau asked.
“He’s...Kane. It isn’t easy for any of us to deal with our curse. You’d think being a werewolf would have its advantages, but not so much.”
“I’m sorry the LaRue’s are dealing with that.”
“It’s not like you were the one to piss off a Voodoo priestess,” Court joked. “Now, back to the Arcineaux’s. Why do you want to know?”
Damn. Beau had hoped Court would let it drop. He should’ve known his cousin wouldn’t let up so easily. “Are you sure the daughters died?”
“There was nothing left of the house, and neither Babette or her girls were seen again. Everyone assumed they died. You found the girls didn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
Court lowered his voice to a whisper. “Beau, if you have them, keep them safe. Delphine might still be after them.”
“Why? What did the sisters do?”
“Isn’t it enough that they have such a powerful enemy? Trust me, cousin, you don’t want to get on Delphine’s bad side. She never forgets or forgives. She holds a grudge forever, and revenge is second nature. All the Chiassons are already on her radar for interfering last time.”
Beau wiped a hand down his face. “Yeah. After what she did to Kane, Ava, and Jack, I’m beginning to see that.”
“Do we need to come down there?”
“No,” he said firmly. “We’ve got something weird going on, and we think we’ve pinpointed a young family that could either be responsible or on the receiving end.”
Court chuckled dryly. “Ah, but the Arcineaux girls caught your attention. How did you piece it together? What name are they using?”
“Their own. They’ve been here for a little over a year.”
“And you thought they could be in danger? No doubt they are. They have been since the night of their mother’s death. As long as Delphine doesn’t know they’re alive, they’ll be fine. I’d have thought they would be long gone from Louisiana though.”
Beau did, as well. What kept them in the state and so close to someone as dangerous as Delphine? “Look, if you don’t hear from any of us over the next few days, one of you might want to come check on things.”
“Sounds like you’ve got something big in town. What is it?”
“I don’t know.” Beau rested his head in his hand. “Olivia’s grandmother was here this morning after being woken by something.”
“She’s the one who practices Hoodoo, right?”
Beau nodded, and then said, “Yep. She got into it years ago when she had her own child. The thing is, Court, I woke up with a bad feeling, as well. And I smelled...smoke.”
“Smoke?”
“That’s not all. I just had a really bad feeling that grew as the day went on, but Maria had more information to impart. She said whatever is coming isn’t here for us, but that we’ll try to stop it and it’ll turn its attention to us. She said that it would come for us, and that someone was going to be hurt.”
“Shit. Maybe we should make another trip to Lyons Point.”
“I wouldn’t mind the help, but y’all have your own problems. Just in case, if I haven’t called to update you, check in on us.”
“Will do. Tell me, are the sisters as pretty as they used to be?” Court asked.
Beau could hear the smile in his voice. “I suppose.”
“You really need to work on your lying, cuz. Delia was pretty, but I always suspected it would be Davena who ended up being the beauty of the two. So, which one is the looker?”
“Davena.” Beau hadn’t had to think twice about it.
“I knew it.”
Beau sat up and cleared his throat. “Thanks for the information.”
“Anytime. Watch yourself, Beau.”
“Same to you, Court.”
He disconnected the call and set aside his phone. Beau leaned back against the headboard and settled his laptop back in place as he typed in Babette Arcineaux in the search engine.
CHAPTER NINE
Davena woke feeling rested and ready for a Saturday off. She didn’t wake Delia as she tiptoed into the bathroom. She took her time in the shower, letting the hot water beat on her tense shoulder muscles. What she wouldn’t do for a massage. It seemed like the most self-indulgent thing she could do for herself. It was also too pricey for her to even consider.
By the time Davena dried off and combed her hair, she was determined to put their argument behind them. She belted her robe and stepped out of the bathroom.
&nb
sp; “Good morning,” she called cheerfully as she went to turn on the coffee pot.
The next thing she was going to splurge on was a coffee pot with a programmable timer so the coffee would be waiting for them when they woke. As soon as the coffee began to brew, she drew in a deep breath and turned to the couch. It was empty, but that was nothing odd. Delia had always been an earlier riser.
Davena didn’t think anything of it, thinking Delia went down the street to pet the horses. Davena decided to make some breakfast as she waited. That’s when she determined it was time both she and her sister did something fun for themselves. And today was just the day.
She finished the eggs, and gave a shout to Delia that breakfast was ready in case she was outside. Davena tucked her wet hair behind her ear and hurried to the metal shelves against the wall. She grabbed an old leather bound book they had found at a flea market.
The pages had been half burned from a fire, and ruined from the water, but it was perfect for them. She had hollowed out the center to put their money in since they were never in one place long enough for a bank. Davena flipped open the cover and stared in disbelief. Every cent of their money was gone. Only a folded piece of paper remained.
Her hands shook as she pulled out the note. Discarding the book, Davena opened the note. She immediately recognized Delia’s looping, whimsical handwriting. The note was simple. It read:
DAVENA –
IT’S FOR THE BEST. LET ME GO.
D.
The note fell from her numb fingers as her ears began to ring. It was all a dream. It had to be. She and Delia made a pact never to leave the other. Ever.
“No,” she mumbled her eyes jerking to the window.
In her haste to get to the window, Davena tripped over her feet that felt as if encased in concrete. She fell against the blinds awkwardly.
“Dammit!” she yelled while trying to open the blinds so she could see out.
Her heart was thudding in her chest when she finally got them open and saw the empty space in front of the house where their car was always parked.