Acadian Waltz (27 page)

Read Acadian Waltz Online

Authors: Alexandrea Weis

Jean Marc
snorted as he broke some eggs into the glass bowl. “There has never been
anything emotionally between us. Ever since we were children, we have been
distant.” He beat the eggs with a fork. “As far as what my brother has been
through,” he added some shredded cheddar to the eggs, “it’s nothing less than
he deserves.”

I leaned my hip
against the counter next to him. “Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on
him?”

“Nora, don’t try
and make me look through that rearview mirror of yours when it comes to my
brother.” He mixed the eggs and cheese together. “My family is filled with
nothing but regrets about Henri. My father bailed him out of a lot of fights, a
few pregnant girlfriends who needed abortions, and even a jail sentence or two.
I think that’s what drove my father to an early grave. Now it’s my turn to be
my brother’s keeper.”

“What do you
mean?”

He poured the
eggs and cheese into the large frying pan. “Who do you think is paying for all
that fancy health care he’s getting at the house? Henri had no insurance. I had
to shell out a bundle for the hospital and the doctors.”

“But why are you
paying his bills?”

“Mother asked me
to. She thought it would help mend fences between Henri and me. She has been
trying to get us to make up for years.”

“Make up? I
don’t understand, Jean Marc.”

“When I came
back from Texas, Henri was supposedly helping our father run Gaspard Fisheries,
except I found out Henri was stealing from the company, and was using the
trawlers for running drugs through the swamps for some associates of his.
Father was ill by this time and I didn’t want to make things worse for him, so
I confronted Henri, privately.”

“What happened?”

He shrugged. “We
fought, like always. It got physical and I finally convinced him to leave
Gaspard Fisheries and my parents alone.”

I raised my
eyebrows skeptically. “You convinced him?”

“That scar down
his right cheek.” He traced a finger down his right cheek. “A reminder of our
bargain. He has never forgiven me for taking over the business, and I have
never forgiven him for almost bankrupting our family.” He placed his arm about
my waist and pulled me next to him. “So, don’t feel too sorry for my brother.”
He paused for a moment and then frowned. “I want you to consider yourself on
notice as far as Henri is concerned. Next week, when cousin Ethel arrives, you
are to move in here with me.”

I was stunned by
his proposal. “Move in here? And do what?”

“Help me run
Gaspard Fisheries, of course. We can build our little empire.”

“What about my
life, my job, my home back in the city?”

“To hell with
all of it.” He flipped the omelet gracefully over in the pan and then moved
toward the cabinet to the right of the sink. “Your place is going to be here
with me.”

As I watched
Jean Marc searching for a plate, the certainty of last night returned to me. No
feelings of doubt ate at me. My stomach was quiet and the only burning I felt
was my hunger for food. The inner depths of my being were calm.

“Maybe you
should call John right now and tell him of your change in plans,” Jean Marc
suggested as he slid the omelet on to a large blue plate. “Better to get the
bad stuff over with early.”

“It’s still dark
outside.” I said, looking out the kitchen window to the bayou.

“When are you
going to tell him?”

“I don’t know.
Perhaps I should wait a bit.”

“Perhaps I
should call him,” Jean Marc grumbled, his merciless eyes probing mine.

“I get the
message. I’ll call him today and tell him it’s over. I hope he doesn’t come
here to try and talk me out of it.” I paused and thought for a moment. “Maybe I
should just wait and go back to New Orleans to tell him.”

Jean Marc shook
his head as he placed the plate in front of me. “Not a good idea.” He handed me
fork. “What if he calls you before you confront him? Are you going to lie and
pretend everything is fine between you two?”

I took the fork
and shrugged. “He’s already called, but I’ve been busy with Henri. I could just
be busy when he calls.”

“He’ll know
something is wrong, Nora. Any man would.” Jean Marc turned away to put the frying
pan in the sink.

“I think he
already knows something is wrong.” I sighed as I broke a piece off the omelet
with my fork. “But John won’t be the real problem.”

“Claire?” Jean
Marc asked, turning back to me.

“When she finds
out I’m canceling her dream wedding, she’ll kill me.”

“Well, she’ll
have to go through me first, darlin’.” He stepped to my side and kissed my
cheek. “And your Uncle Jack.”

“What do we tell
Uncle Jack and your mother?”

“Mother will be
overjoyed. As for Jack?” Jean Marc winked at me. “I think he already suspects.
Once you get rid of that fiancé of yours, we can tell everyone, officially.
Then, we will deal with Claire.”

“You will deal
with Claire.” I made the sign of the cross over him with my fork. “And may God
have mercy on your soul.”

*     *     *

After the sun
came up, I returned to the main house. When I opened the back door and stepped
into the kitchen, a wave of smoke accosted me. At first, I thought something
was burning, but then I saw the culprit sitting by the kitchen table smoking a
cigarette.

“You’re sleeping
with him,” Henri clearly pronounced as the smoke billowed around his head.

He was grinning
at me with the cigarette smoldering in his left hand while his right hand was
still curled up, useless, against his side.

I walked slowly
over to the table. “Look who’s made a miraculous recovery.”

“Only for you,
dear Nora.” He took another puff on his cigarette. “As far as the rest of the
house is concerned, I’m still weak and feeble Henri, all right?”

“What makes you
think I would go along with that?” I asked, taking the cigarette from his hand.

“You’re screwing
my brother while still engaged to another man.” He waved his good hand at me.
“So don’t pass judgment on me, little one. Besides, what would your mother say?
Claire would die if she thought you were involved with Jean Marc. You know how
she hates all of us Gaspards.”

“Why show me
this?” I put the cigarette out in the ashtray on the table.

“I need you to
play along with my little disability.” He pulled at his right hand. “At least
some of it is true, but up here….” He tapped at his head with his left hand.
“That’s intact.”

“Why should I
play along?”

“You know how
Jean Marc feels about me. First sign I can be on my own, he’ll pitch me out of
here faster than a pelican can snag a fish from the water. I need to stay a
while longer, get stronger, and collect some funds. You can help me. Keep Jean
Marc distracted while I get ready.”

I placed my hand
on my hip and stared at him. “Did you have something to do with that girl’s death?”

“You know Henri
ain’t no murderer. I like the ladies, Nora. I don’t kill them. But the men I
owe, they’re the ones that sliced her up.”

“The men you
owe?”

“My backers.” He
paused and then chuckled at me. “Nora, you've lived in New Orleans all your life,
but you have no idea what really goes on inside of the French Quarter. The
cults that exist there are a powerful attractant to the weak-minded. There are
a few men that organize those cults, collect dues from the followers, and
recruit new initiates from the homeless teenagers that flock to the city thanks
to Anne Rice and her vampire novels. Kids come to New Orleans seeking vampires
and voodoo. These guys I work for give it to them.”

I took a wary
step back from him. “What are you talking about?”

“My backers are
the ones who set me up in my group. They brought me some of my members and
spread the word around town that I was something special. I made them a lot of
money, and got them boys or girls for their other interests.”

“What the hell
are you involved with, Henri?”

“Can you see why
I need to hide out here? I’ll eventually have to get out of town, but I need to
stay here until I’m ready. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but if the men I work
for think I’m like Jell-O, then I’m safe. As soon as anyone finds out I have
all my wits about me and can talk, I’ll be killed.”

“But what about
the stuff you drank and the seizures you had? You couldn’t have faked that.”

“A simple
miscalculation on my part. I was supposed to appear enlightened for my
followers. I was even going to tell them you were an evil spirit and chase you
out of our meeting that night.” He scratched his head. “In the right amounts
that little drug I’m supplied with can make you seem very omnipotent.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure.
The men I work for get it from some old Indian in New Mexico.”

I looked over at
Henri; my head was still reeling from the information he had just given me.
“The girl, the one who died. She drank that stuff?”

He nodded
reluctantly. “Yeah. My backers use it to break in new additions to their
stables; if the boy or girl rebels too much, the doctor cuts them up.”

“The doctor?
Jesus, Henri, from what I heard a precision surgeon mutilated that girl. Who
are these people you work for?”

“Men who will
kill anyone who gets in their way.” He struggled to get out of his chair, and
then with his good hand he pulled himself to a standing position. “Now you know
my secret and I know yours. Keep Jean Marc occupied for another week, help me
collect some money, and keep your mouth shut about this. If my brother finds
out, he’ll just call the cops and I’ll be hauled away. Mother will be
devastated and eventually my associates will find me…and kill me. So you see, I
have to keep up this act until I can get away. All right?”

“I don’t know,
Henri.” I examined the long scar along his right cheek and thought of what Jean
Marc had told me.

He saw me
starring at the scar and quickly turned from me. “The resemblance between me
and my brother is rather uncanny, isn’t it, Nora? Imagine if someone came here
not knowing I had a twin. What would they do to Jean Marc if they thought he
was me?” He paused for a moment and then added, “I suggest you think about
this.”

That burning
knot returned to my stomach with a vengeance. I stood riveted to my spot as
Henri made his way out of the kitchen, dragging his right foot alongside him. I
listened as he slowly shuffled down the hall to his bedroom in the parlor.

“Apparently, the
dangerous tiger has awakened,” I mumbled, remembering Jean Marc’s warning. “And
he’s going to eat us all alive.”

Chapter 23

 

Four hours
later, I walked into Henri’s room to find Ms. Marie ladling gumbo down his
throat. I almost burst into laughter when I saw the napkin secured as a bib
around Henri’s neck as his mother lovingly spooned mouthfuls of seafood gumbo
to her son.

“Ah, he’s
looking much better today, Nora T,” Ms. Marie cooed as she gave the last
spoonful of gumbo to Henri. “His color, she is back.”

“Yes, he does
appear full of it this morning,” I commented, giving Henri a sly smile.

Ms. Marie
cleared the soup bowl and the bib out of Henri’s way. “I’ll leave you two to do
your therapy.” She turned to Henri and kissed his cheek. “Mind Nora T, Henri.”
Then she placed the soup bowl on a large wooden tray and carried it out of the
room.

I waited until
the parlor doors were securely closed before I approached Henri’s hospital bed.

“Enjoying
yourself?”

“Immensely,” he
replied and wiped his left hand across his mouth. “Mother hasn’t paid this much
attention to me since I was seven and had the chicken pox.”

“You’ll break
that poor woman’s heart when you leave here and she finds out you were never as
sick as you pretended. She may never forgive you.”

“Mother?” He
snickered as he sat up in his bed and made himself comfortable. “She’d forgive
the devil himself.”

“What about Jean
Marc?”

“Now, he could
pose something of a problem for me.” He arched an eyebrow at me. “Thought about
our little situation anymore?”

“Of course.” I
sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. “Can’t think of anything else. But
before I agree to your scheme, I want some guarantees, or I swear I’ll turn you
into the cops myself.”

“Oh my, little
Nora Kehoe has grown some balls.” The smile faded from his thin lips. “What do
you want?”

“That when you
leave you will never return to Gaspard House, Manchac, or the state of
Louisiana. I want to know that your family is free of you forever. No one will
ever hear from you or see you again. Agreed?”

He looked me
over with his cold eyes for a moment and his smile returned. “You drive a hard
bargain, girl. This is my birthright, my land; I may want to bring my children
back to this place one day.”

“I could throw
in your having a vasectomy as part of our agreement, but I think it’s safe to
say that any woman ever knocked up by the likes of you will never want you
around to raise children.”

“I could
change.”

“Do we have a
deal or not?” I asked, raising my voice to him.

He hesitated for
a moment and then nodded his head. “You’re just like Jean Marc. He tried to
keep me away.”

“Yes, I know about
that.” I pointed to his right cheek. “If you ever cross me, Henri, I’ll be just
as ruthless as your brother. I will tell the cops everything, and then I’ll
find out who you’ve been working for and I tell them everything, too.”

“Vindictive
little bitch, aren’t you?” He rubbed his right hand with his left. “Is my
brother worth all this?”

“I’m protecting
him and your mother.” I paused and grinned. “You’re just like all the stories
I’ve heard about your Uncle Etienne, Henri. Bad to the bone, and you don’t give
a rat’s ass about anyone else but yourself.”

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