Blue Moon

by C. D. Ledbetter

  Nicole steeled herself not to laugh in his face. As if she would give someone like him the time of day. Arrogant little twerp. He was simply a pawn in her plan to get back the plantation. As soon as his usefulness was finished, so was he.

  Francois prattled on and on about his real estate triumphs until they finished the main course. While they waited for dessert to be served, Nicole finally managed to steer the conversation back to the current plans for the plantation. She breathed a secret sigh of relief when he told her Miss Phelps planned to turn the house into a bed and breakfast, and that restoration had already started. Once she found out everything she wanted, she skillfully ended the lunch, and they returned to his office.

  As she stepped out of the car, she pulled on dove-gray gloves and patted his shoulder. "Francois, I don't know when I've had a more exciting lunch. I can't wait to tell the women at my bridge club about your triumph. We must do this again."

  He squared his shoulders and stood on his toes to plant a kiss on her upturned cheek. "But of course, my dear. Anytime you like."

  She blew him a kiss as she climbed into her Mercedes®. What a boring little man he was. A triumphant smile crossed her lips. It shouldn't be difficult to sabotage Miss Phelps' plans for the plantation. All she needed was a few of the local businesses to boycott the restoration, and the cost of repairing the house would double when they had to bring in outside labor and materials.

  She pulled into the driveway, parked her car next to Philippe's, and followed the scent of his cheap cigars into the drawing room.

  He looked up as she entered. "What did you find out?"

  She watched him rub out his cigar in the ashtray, and perched on the edge of a tapestry-covered chair. "They're planning to turn the plantation into a bed and breakfast. I already have a plan. Here's what you need to do..."

  Her task completed, she turned to leave. What a pitiful excuse for a man Philippe was. Would she never find a man worthy of her talent and beauty? Out of the corner of her eye she saw him pick up the phone, and wondered how he was going to convince his so-called friends to turn away the chance to recoup some of their losses. That, she decided, was his problem. She'd done everything else, surely he could manage this one little thing.

  He remained unavailable all afternoon, and entered the dining room after the main course was served. She started to berate him for being late, but stopped when she saw the worried expression on his face. "Don't tell me you couldn't get them to boycott the restoration?"

  He said nothing and she slammed her fork on the table. "Must I do everything, Philippe? What excuse did they give you?"

  He tucked his napkin across his lap and stared at his empty wineglass. "It boils down to dollars and cents, my dear. The business owners care more about their bottom line than our friendship. They would like to help, but need the money. It's as simple as that."

  "So what are you going to do about it? We have to stop the restoration, or at least sabotage it so that it becomes too expensive to pursue." She tapped her fork on the edge of her plate as she tried to come up with another plan. A thought struck her, and she narrowed her eyes. "Don't you know someone you could pay to damage the equipment and materials they already have? That will buy us some time, since you're unable to convince anyone to help."

  He remained silent for a few moments. "I don't like this new plan of yours, Nicole. I've always abhorred violence of any kind."

  "Yes, and where has it gotten you?" she sneered. "Look at yourself, Philippe. Your business is bankrupt, and you haven't a cent to your name. What have you got left?"

  "My pride and my good name."

  "Try buying something with either of them," she taunted. "You'll find they aren't worth anything. See how long your so-called friends give you credit when you don't have any money." She walked over to the liquor cabinet. "Face it, Philippe. This is your one chance to recoup everything you've lost. Don't blow it."

  He rubbed his chin, sighing. "Maybe you're right. I might know a couple of men who could damage the material without getting caught. I'll see what I can do." He motioned for her to fill his wineglass with scotch. "What else do you have planned?"

  A slow smile spread across her lips. "Tomorrow, I'm going to tell my bridge club a little secret. Imagine their outrage when they learn the new plantation owner plans to re-initiate Voodoo and sacrifices in our area. I'll tell them we suspect the new owner's hiding behind the guise of a legitimate bed and breakfast owner, and plans to bring in drugs to support her activities. I think they might be a little on the upset side, don't you?"

  He raised his glass in a toast. "That's one of the things I admire about you, Nicole. You're totally unscrupulous when it comes to getting what you want. I have no doubt your plan will succeed."

  Chapter 30

  The library clerk walked over to DeeDee's table and handed her a stack of pages. "This is the last of them, Ms. Edson. I've searched the shelves, but there isn't any more information about Jean-Pierre and Magdalene Larussard."

  DeeDee pulled out her wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

  "Ten dollars even. There were a lot of pages to copy."

  She smiled and handed the clerk fifteen. "Keep the rest for your time and trouble. You've been wonderful. I'd never have finished if it weren't for you." The woman started to protest, but she patted her arm. "The least I can do is buy you lunch. You've been more than helpful, and I want to do something nice for you."

  The woman slowly folded the money and stuffed it in her pocket. "Well, if you're offering to buy lunch, then I guess it's okay. I didn't expect anything from you. I was just doing my job."

  DeeDee smiled as she stuffed the papers into her briefcase, thanked the clerk once more, and left. Thank goodness this boring research was finally over. Now she could leave this hellhole and go back to Boston, where civilized people lived. She glanced at the window signs on the main street of town, and swerved into an open parking spot when she spotted a local travel agent. Some twenty minutes later she had the tickets for her return trip tucked into her expensive Italian handbag. It was unfortunate the afternoon flight was booked; she'd have to wait until morning to leave. She knew Mary wouldn't be happy, but she'd had enough of this place to last a lifetime.

  The men were still working when she arrived. Something was different, and it took her a few minutes to realize what it was. She counted heads and realized nearly half the men were missing. What on earth was going on?

  Mary stood near the French doors in the drawing room, waving her hands back and forth as she talked to Nichols. DeeDee strolled in and took a seat on the couch. "Where's the rest of the men?"

  "That's what we were discussing," Mary replied. "Mr. Nichols was explaining what happened." She placed a hand on his arm. "Would you please continue?"

  He tipped his hat and scratched his head. "It's the darndest thing. All the local guys came in this morning, said they quit and left. No explanation or nothing. The only ones left came from Texas, and they're getting antsy. I asked them what was wrong, but they wouldn't say much, 'cept they were uneasy working on this house. That's it."

  Mary paced the floor. "Why would they leave on such short notice? Surely they don't mind DeeDee and I being here. We haven't bothered them, have we?"

  "No, ma'am," he replied. "I don't think it's you. Something funny's going on in town, too. Yesterday evening, when I went to order the rest of the materials, the fella at the lumberyard was real cool. I asked him what was wrong, but he shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something in French. I asked him to translate, but he wouldn't say nothing else. Same thing at the hotel where we're staying. Those folks been real nice until yesterday and today. Seems like they got a burr under their saddle, but they're not saying what, or how it got there." He glanced at Mary. "I hate to tell you this, ma'am, but if we can't get any more men, I'll have to put this job on hold."

  Mary's eyes widened and she took a deep breath. "I'm not sure what to do, Mr. Nichols. Would you mind going into town to see if you can get an
y more men? If not, I'll have to call my aunt to let her know what's going on."

  He gave her a quick salute. "Already on it, ma'am. I've got an appointment with the union shop steward for three this afternoon." He glanced at his watch. "It's two now. I'll let you know what I find out."

  Mary escorted him out the door. "Thank you, Mr. Nichols. I appreciate everything you've done."

  "No problem, ma'am. I've never had this happen before, and I sure don't want it happening again."

  They watched his truck lumber down the long driveway. When it disappeared out of sight, DeeDee placed a hand on Mary's arm. "I hate to compound bad news, sis, but I've booked a flight out for tomorrow morning."

  Surprised, Mary stared at her open-mouthed. "Why? I thought you were going to stay until Sunday afternoon."

  DeeDee shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm going crazy, cooped up in this creepy old house." She picked up her briefcase and removed the stack of pages from the library. "I've finished your research. It's not much, mostly information on what they bought to build the house, and their marriage information. I don't think they had any children, because there's nothing in the birth records."

  Mary stacked the pages carefully on the liquor cabinet. "You sure you won't change your mind and stay until the weekend?"

  "Sorry, sis. I'm outta here." DeeDee walked over and put her arm around Mary's shoulders. "Why don't you come back to Boston with me? You've searched nearly every room and haven't found anything. Maybe a change would do you good." She studied Mary's face. "I'll even bet your nightmares have returned."

  "What makes you think that?"

  Dee pointed to her face. "Those big, ugly circles under your eyes. Your dreams have come back, haven't they?"

  Mary sighed. "Yes, and they're worse than ever." She turned and held out her hands. "That's why I've got to stay and find out what happened to Magdalene. If I don't, I'll never get rid of them."

  DeeDee shook her head. "I think you're making a mistake. I'm going back to civilization tomorrow. You sure you won't change your mind?"

  "I can't. What time's your plane?"

  "Seven forty-five. I need to be at the airport no later than six am to check in. You don't have to wait, I'll be fine." She looked at Mary's unhappy expression, and sighed. "Tell you what, sis. Since this is my last night, I'll help you look for that hidden room. Okay?"

  Mary forced her lips into a smile. "Thanks, I could use the help."

  "We'll get started right after dinner. I'll even make you some of my famous spaghetti as a going away present."

  Mary remained quiet all through dinner, although DeeDee did her best to make her laugh. After dinner, they started toward the master bedroom.

  "Good God," DeeDee exclaimed. "I'd forgotten how gruesome this room is." She fingered the black material hanging on the grandfather clock and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Didn't somebody die in here?"

  Mary nodded and pointed to the bed near the window. "Mr. Ventereux died of old age in that bed. The black cloths are a sign of mourning."

  DeeDee shuddered. "Well, hurry up, because this room's giving me the creeps. Why don't you take down that awful material and throw it away?"

  "It's not my house. I know this room is awful, but I don't dare throw anything away. Aunt Elizavon would have a fit." She ran her hands across the wall. "I'm glad you're here with me. I've left this one alone because I didn't want to do it by myself."

  DeeDee moved her chair over to the doorway. "Don't waste time talking. Keep looking. The sooner you're done, the sooner we can go back to our cozy fire."

  Mary finished her search and locked the door behind her. She took one look at DeeDee's pale face and chuckled. "I've locked the door from the inside. Nobody can get in or out without Elizavon's key. Does that make you feel better?"

  DeeDee forced her lips into a smile. "Thanks. I don't think I could have stayed in there much longer."

  Mary patted her arm and led her into the drawing room. "You always were a chicken. There's nothing in this house to hurt you, sis. All that's left are items belonging to the people who lived here."

  DeeDee shivered. "Yeah, well your items give me the creeps. I can't wait to leave."

  They talked for a while, then DeeDee announced her plan to spend the next several hours soaking in a hot bubble bath. Mary watched her climb the stairs and decided she might as well continue her search.

  Where was Magdalene when she needed her? So far, she'd searched half the house, and come up empty–handed. She was beginning to get discouraged, and wondered if she'd ever find the clue to Magadalene's disappearance. The clock struck one as she finished the last wall, and she called it a night.

  The ever-present damp chill in her bedroom greeted her, and she coaxed smoldering embers in the fireplace back into a small fire. Maybe she'd see Magdalene tonight. Anything would be better than another nightmare. Disgusted at her lack of progress, she pulled the covers tight against her neck and willed herself to sleep.

  A scratching noise at one of the French doors seeped into her consciousness. She opened her eyes, reached for the baseball bat under the pillow next to her, and slipped out of bed. The scratching noise continued, and she held the bat ready as she crept toward the French doors. "Who's out there?"

  Nobody answered, and she threw open the curtain. A scream formed in her throat as she encountered a man standing on the other side of the door. His black face was painted white, with odd designs etched in yellow luminous paint. Despite the cold, he was dressed in a ragged white shirt and torn pants that only reached his knees. A cap filled with feathers covered his head, and across his shoulders he wore a feathered cape, much like the one Sadie had at the Blue Moon ceremony. He looked up as she drew back the curtain, and his eyes widened in surprise. When Mary raised the bat in defense, he turned and fled.

  She leaned against the door for support and willed her heart to stop pounding. Where had she seen those designs before? She recalled the dancers at the Voodoo ceremony, and chills ran down her spine. He must be part of the Voodoo cult, but what was he doing outside her door? Had he returned to the plantation to harm her for witnessing the Blue Moon ceremony? Were they after Jack, too? She wondered if she should call Jack and warn him, but realized these people couldn't possibly know where he lived. They were only after her because she was back at the plantation.

  Screams erupted from upstairs. DeeDee! She raced up the stairs, and reached the top as the sound of a gun firing echoed through the hallway. Blood pounded in her ears as she covered the last few steps in what seemed like slow motion. Oh God, please don't let her be dead! Her hands shook as she threw open the door.

  DeeDee turned and the gun in her hands wavered as Mary entered the room. She screamed and the gun discharged. Mary fell to the floor in self-defense, moments before a bullet rammed into the doorframe where she'd been standing.

  Tears streamed down DeeDee's face as she dropped the gun. Scream after scream erupted from her lips. Mary dragged herself to her knees, then stood up. She grabbed DeeDee by the shoulders, but the screams continued. When shaking her didn't work, she slapped DeeDee across the face. DeeDee stopped screaming, then collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor. Mary wrapped shaky arms around her, assuring her over and over that everything was okay--she wasn't dead.

  DeeDee's sobs eventually subsided, and she allowed Mary to guide her out of the room and down the narrow hallway. Mary kept a firm grip on the top of the banister as they negotiated the stairs. DeeDee's legs wobbled as she walked and Mary half-carried her into the drawing room.

  After coaxing the dying embers in the fireplace into a small blaze, Mary walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured two large brandies. She wordlessly handed one to DeeDee and watched as she drained the amber liquid in two gulps. A second brandy helped bring some of the color back into her cheeks. Mary breathed a sigh of relief when DeeDee's shakes finally subsided.

  She finished her brandy, then phoned the sheriff to tell him about the prowler. He indicated that he'd be
out as soon as possible, and told her to make sure all the doors and windows were locked.

  DeeDee remained strangely quiet and Mary picked up one of her hands. "DeeDee, where did you get the gun?" she asked gently as she rubbed warmth back into her cold fingers.

  "One of the workers gave it to me for protection." DeeDee's sobs started again, and she leaned against Mary for support. "Oh God, I nearly killed you, sis. I'm so sorry."

  Mary draped an arm around her. "I'm just glad you're a lousy shot. Don't worry about it. The main thing is we're both okay. What were you shooting at?"

  DeeDee's hand shook as she pointed to a window. "Something woke me up. I think it was a noise. I looked over to the window and saw a man leaning against it." She hid her face in the sofa. "It was hideous. His face was painted white with terrible markings on it. I grabbed the gun out of the nightstand and pulled the trigger. Then you entered the room, and the gun went off again. I can't believe I almost killed you."

  Two prowlers in one night? Mary tried to keep her voice level. "You're not the only one who had a visitor. There was a man standing outside my French doors shortly before you started screaming. When I raised my bat, he ran into the trees." She rubbed her arms to dispel the chill. "I wonder if there were two of them, trying to get into the house."

  DeeDee grabbed her arm. "We have to get out of here, Mary. Who knows when they'll come back? The next time we might not be so lucky." She got up and stumbled to the doorway. "I don't know about you, but when that sheriff gets here, I'm going back into town. I'm not staying here another minute. If you're smart, you'll come with me."

  Mary grabbed her arm. "Don't be silly. Whoever it was is gone by now, and I'm sure they won't be back. We're perfectly safe."