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“She’s been on me like crazy to move that fucking dresser,” he growled.
“It’s just a fucking dresser. Move it,” said Sly.
“It’s one of Irene’s old pieces. That thing must weigh three hundred pounds, and it’s full of shit. Kat doesn’t want to empty it, just move it. I’m worried I’ll scratch the floors.”
“I’ll see if we can get Tailor, Eric, Alec, and Keith over there. Between the four of them, they could move it,” said Nine.
“Then she’ll know something is up,” said Whiskey, shaking his head. “I’ll get to it. She just needs to be patient.”
“Okay, remember, we’re meeting at the east dock at 2300. Miller? Pack the explosives, but try not to blow it to smithereens. We need enough of it left to prove what they were doing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t blow shit to smithereens. I’m more delicate than that. I’m careful. Precise.”
“Yea, like a fucking elephant at a ballet,” smirked Antoine. Antoine turned, feeling the ghostly presence of Yori and Nathan. The two men were smiling at them.
“What are the grins for?” asked Gaspar.
“We’ve discovered something interesting,” said Yori. “When your father bought that land, we inherited a few new friends.”
“Fuck,” muttered Gaspar. “More ghosts?”
“Be grateful. One of them will be especially useful. He’s been able to cause a little mischief on the land every now and then. In fact, he’s responsible for Couvillion not being able to make a living from those boats. He’s been somewhat of a protector to the residents.”
“I don’t understand,” said Baptiste. “How is it possible for him to do that?”
“It seems he’s a relative of Martha’s. A cousin who was attempting to make it back to Belle Fleur in a storm when his boat capsized. He was lost at sea, or so they thought. Turns out, he made it to shore but died.”
“Do we have a name?” asked Rafe.
“Yes. Aloysius Marcel Beauvais Robicheaux.”
“Can we just call him Al?” asked Miller.
“He prefers Marcel,” smiled Yori. “He’ll be waiting for you near the boat. The other wonderful skill our new friend has is that he has free reign of the entire bayou now that you own that piece of land.”
“Interesting. I know this might be a stupid question, but how will we recognize him? I mean, other than he’s a ghost.”
“You’ll recognize him. Our friend Marcel had the stellar genetics of a Robicheaux. One in particular. He is as big as Alec,” smiled Yori. “I think you’ll like his company. He’s quite funny.”
“Funny? Great, that’s all I need, another seven-foot Robicheaux who thinks he’s funny,” smirked Ghost.
“I’m not seven-feet,” said Alec. “I told you. I had a late growth spurt.”
“Right. Didn’t we all.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Mama, what is going on with the seniors?” asked Marie.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Hand me the icing for the snowflakes.” Marie handed her the piping bag, watching as she expertly decorated the cookies lining the sheet pan. Claudette was assisting, and Marie smiled at her.
She was happy that Claudette and Jake had taken over the big house and the duties that went with it. She and Dex loved their life together, and although it might seem selfish, she didn’t want to have to watch out for everyone else. Between the three oldest girls, Marie, Claudette, and Camille, Claudette was definitely the more maternal of the three.
“Claudette, you look just like Mama when we were little girls helping in the kitchen,” smiled Marie.
“I’ll take that compliment,” smiled Claudette. She kissed her mother’s temple, giving her a little squeeze.
“Now, Mama, what are the boys doing?” repeated Marie.
