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Chapter Three

As they set out, Raven heard the far-off laughter of children. The sound meant family had begun arriving as they did most days, and that softened her mood. She always enjoyed their presence no matter the reason. “Is Renay home yet?”

“Not yet. Supposedly later today.”

Renay was Lacie’s older brother. He’d gone to Chicago to handle a job involving a copy of Gainsborough’sBlue Boy. The purloined painting would be passed on to the Moreau relatives in Havana, who’d send it on to their connections in Spain where it would be sold.

Raven was about to ask Lacie about her youngest brother, Antoine, when they were startled by Dorrie and a small group of young cousins bursting out of the trees. One of the boys hit Raven on the arm and yelled, “Cousin Raven’s it!” And they ran off.

Raven and Lacie shared a grin. She noticedSteele’s smile and noted he had something inside besides judgment. He met her gaze but didn’t say anything. Their walk resumed.

When they reached the house, she spied a crew of adolescent family members cleaning out the grills and smokers in the outdoor kitchen under the watchful eyes of Vana. The family came together on Sundays for dinner, and their work was part of the preparation. Due to Welch’s assignment, Raven would probably be on the way to Charleston and miss the upcoming gathering. She added one more sin to Welch’s slate.

The sight of the work on the grills brought up an old memory. “Lace, remember the time we bought the potion from that old conjure woman on Ramparts Street that was supposed to make us invisible so we wouldn’t have to help in the kitchen?”

Lacie laughed. “We were invisible all right. Spent the entire day throwing up in the privy.”

“How old were you?” Steele asked.

Raven thought back. “Nine? Ten, maybe?”

Lacie nodded. “We never bought anything from her ever again.”

“Why would you waste money on something that couldn’t possibly do such a thing?”

“We were children,” Raven replied defensively.

“And,” Lacie added, “if Aunt Vana was working you from no light to no light, you’d be looking for potions, too.” She studied him for amoment before asking Raven, “Is he always so judgmental?”

“Apparently.”

“That’s too bad. What a waste of handsomeness.”

From the storm clouds that formed in his dark eyes, Raven assumed he hadn’t appreciated the assessment and she chuckled to herself.Judge not lest you be judgedcame to mind.

The interior of the house was filled with cousins of all ages, colors, and genders, representing the nine wings of the immediate family. Some were in the indoor kitchen assisting Aunt Eden with more preparation duties; others were standing, sitting, laughing, and talking, while a small group played cards on a table set up by the parlor’s windows. The younger ones often gathered at Hazel’s home after school to await being taken home by their parents once the workday ended. Some were old enough to have jobs and children of their own, and had stopped by for the camaraderie. As always, the noise level was high, but it fueled Raven’s spirit like manna.

Over the din, Lacie said, “Aunt Hazel said for the three of us to meet her upstairs.”

On the way, Raven stopped a moment to share hugs with those she hadn’t seen in a while, kiss the soft fat cheeks of some of the babies, and look over shoulders at the cards a cousin held. Steele was silently assessing all the goings-on.She knew that some people were overwhelmed by the size of her family, and she wondered if he was one of them.

They joined Hazel and Harrison Steele in the small library. As Raven met the question in her mother’s eyes, silently asking how she’d gotten along with Braxton, Raven gave a tiny shrug. She’d share details later when they were alone.

“Come look at the sketch and see what you think,” Hazel said.

They walked over and studied the pen-and-ink sketch. Raven was impressed. He’d captured the detective’s face well: from the soft fleshiness of the aging chin and jaw, to the unsmiling sternness in her face and eyes. “This is very good.”

“Excellent job, Da,” his son said. “Excellent job.”

“Thank you.” Harrison looked between Raven and his son as if seeking answers, too, but Raven offered nothing. She’d let Braxton tell him his side of things.

Lacie said, “I’d like a duplicate to show around. Do you have more?”

“We wanted to get Raven and Brax’s opinion first,” Harrison replied. “How many more do you think you’ll need, Hazel?”

“Can you make me five before nightfall? That way Lacie can show it around her gambling house when she leaves here.”

Raven saw Braxton stiffen. “Yes, Mr. Judgmental, my cousin owns a gambling house, a very successful one, I might add.”

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