made that girl’s life hell for a week at
school. First a dead rat in her gym bag and then dirty pictures in
her desk for the teacher to find. She’d jump every time you walked
by.” Marcelle giggled. “You were terrible. Didn’t we have some
times?”
“Yeah, until the priest made you reform. Then
all you did was preach to me how I was going straight to hell.” Rae
shook her head. “How did we stay friends when we were so
different?”
“You were my adopted sister.” Marcelle packed
the last glasses away. “I couldn’t give up on you.”
“I almost gave up on myself.” Rae thought of
those fast-lane days with the wisdom of maturity. “With all those
folks telling me I was no good, I believed it. I was living up to
the Dalcour legend.”
“Bon Dieu! Remember when you and Charles
Malveaux almost got arrested racing his car on top the levee?
Honey, I had my hands full tryin’ to set you straight.”
“I must have been out of my mind. It’s a
wonder I’m not in prison or dead, some of the stuff I did.” Rae
shook her head slowly.
Marcelle walked up to her. “So what are you
up to now?”
“Marcelle, I’m not that fifteen-year-old girl
anymore. I’m here, trying to start a business. That’s all.” Rae
lifted her chin.
“There, you see. That’s part of the truth,
but not all of it. What did you promise Mr. Lucien?” Marcelle
plopped down in a chair. She fanned herself with an old piece of
cardboard. “Give it up.”
Rae turned and started pulling down another
rotting curtain. “Just that I wouldn’t let the house or this place
fall down.”
“And..?” Marcelle’s sharp question jabbed
through the air.
Rae could hold it in no longer. She never
kept secrets from her best friend. “And I’m going to try to get at
the truth about Pawpaw Vincent. I’m hiring LaMar Zeno.” She sat
down in a chair across the table from Marcelle.
Her friend stared with her mouth hanging
open. “Quit lyin’, girl!”
“If I’m lyin’, I’m flyin’, as we used to say.
I got him coming over tomorrow.” Rae tapped the table top before
jumped again. She spoke over her shoulder as she moved to the next
window, “He’s going to find out the truth, Marcelle. I can just
feel it.”
“Well, if anybody can, it’s LaMar Zeno. He’s
the best black private detective around, they say. He even helps
some major corporations with industrial spying. Freddie told me
that.”
“Just hope he won’t refuse when I tell him
he’s looking for two people who vanished fifty years ago.” Rae
frowned. “I’ll convince him though. I hear he loves solving a good
puzzle.”
“Then he’ll jump at the chance to take this
case.” Marcelle was silent for a while. “Then there’s you and Simon
St. Cyr. Heard y’all were mighty cozy at lunch.”
“Man, I’d forgotten how fast news travels in
this place.” Rae dodged the implied question.
“Keepin’ in with other folks business is a
major sport around here.” Marcelle fixed her with a steady gaze.
“But the point is you were gettin’ along very well with Simon.”
“He’s a nice person. Why shouldn’t we get
along?”
“Raenette Marie Dalcour, don’t play with me.”
Marcelle got up and yanked on her blouse. “Tell me this instant!”
With a firm hand, she led Rae back to the chair. “Sit your butt
down and don’t move until I know everything.”
“Nothing much to tell. We had lunch, talked
some, and we’re going out tonight for dinner.” Rae laughed at the
effect of her words on her friend.
“Quit lyin’!” Marcelle’s eyes were round and
her mouth fell open this time.
Rae winked. “He’s picking me up in a few
short hours. So let’s get to work. I’ll need time to look my best
by six.”
Marcelle became serious. “Rae, I know we’ve
been jokin’ around about the old days and stuff, but....”
“But what?”
“Messin’ with them Joves is like teasin’ a
yard full of pit bulls.”
“They don’t run this town and they
school. First a dead rat in her gym bag and then dirty pictures in
her desk for the teacher to find. She’d jump every time you walked
by.” Marcelle giggled. “You were terrible. Didn’t we have some
times?”
“Yeah, until the priest made you reform. Then
all you did was preach to me how I was going straight to hell.” Rae
shook her head. “How did we stay friends when we were so
different?”
“You were my adopted sister.” Marcelle packed
the last glasses away. “I couldn’t give up on you.”
“I almost gave up on myself.” Rae thought of
those fast-lane days with the wisdom of maturity. “With all those
folks telling me I was no good, I believed it. I was living up to
the Dalcour legend.”
“Bon Dieu! Remember when you and Charles
Malveaux almost got arrested racing his car on top the levee?
Honey, I had my hands full tryin’ to set you straight.”
“I must have been out of my mind. It’s a
wonder I’m not in prison or dead, some of the stuff I did.” Rae
shook her head slowly.
Marcelle walked up to her. “So what are you
up to now?”
“Marcelle, I’m not that fifteen-year-old girl
anymore. I’m here, trying to start a business. That’s all.” Rae
lifted her chin.
“There, you see. That’s part of the truth,
but not all of it. What did you promise Mr. Lucien?” Marcelle
plopped down in a chair. She fanned herself with an old piece of
cardboard. “Give it up.”
Rae turned and started pulling down another
rotting curtain. “Just that I wouldn’t let the house or this place
fall down.”
“And..?” Marcelle’s sharp question jabbed
through the air.
Rae could hold it in no longer. She never
kept secrets from her best friend. “And I’m going to try to get at
the truth about Pawpaw Vincent. I’m hiring LaMar Zeno.” She sat
down in a chair across the table from Marcelle.
Her friend stared with her mouth hanging
open. “Quit lyin’, girl!”
“If I’m lyin’, I’m flyin’, as we used to say.
I got him coming over tomorrow.” Rae tapped the table top before
jumped again. She spoke over her shoulder as she moved to the next
window, “He’s going to find out the truth, Marcelle. I can just
feel it.”
“Well, if anybody can, it’s LaMar Zeno. He’s
the best black private detective around, they say. He even helps
some major corporations with industrial spying. Freddie told me
that.”
“Just hope he won’t refuse when I tell him
he’s looking for two people who vanished fifty years ago.” Rae
frowned. “I’ll convince him though. I hear he loves solving a good
puzzle.”
“Then he’ll jump at the chance to take this
case.” Marcelle was silent for a while. “Then there’s you and Simon
St. Cyr. Heard y’all were mighty cozy at lunch.”
“Man, I’d forgotten how fast news travels in
this place.” Rae dodged the implied question.
“Keepin’ in with other folks business is a
major sport around here.” Marcelle fixed her with a steady gaze.
“But the point is you were gettin’ along very well with Simon.”
“He’s a nice person. Why shouldn’t we get
along?”
“Raenette Marie Dalcour, don’t play with me.”
Marcelle got up and yanked on her blouse. “Tell me this instant!”
With a firm hand, she led Rae back to the chair. “Sit your butt
down and don’t move until I know everything.”
“Nothing much to tell. We had lunch, talked
some, and we’re going out tonight for dinner.” Rae laughed at the
effect of her words on her friend.
“Quit lyin’!” Marcelle’s eyes were round and
her mouth fell open this time.
Rae winked. “He’s picking me up in a few
short hours. So let’s get to work. I’ll need time to look my best
by six.”
Marcelle became serious. “Rae, I know we’ve
been jokin’ around about the old days and stuff, but....”
“But what?”
“Messin’ with them Joves is like teasin’ a
yard full of pit bulls.”
“They don’t run this town and they
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