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Now it was her eyes that widened. "Wait, what? Their boss?" She looked up to the sky and dropped her shoulders in surrender. "Okay, I give up. Please explain."

  The largest one she'd observed before, Ty, stepped forward and she got a better look at him. He was huge, and with his high cheekbones, sharp nose, and almond shaped eyes, Caroline decided he had to be of Native American descent. Ty was certainly handsome, but it was the scar on his chest that Caroline caught a glimpse of under his tank shirt that drew her attention. A brand, just like Cade's. And in the same place. She attempted not to stare as he took her hand in his, engulfing it. He had a deep voice and spoke with a strong but understandable accent.

  "Hello, Miss Caroline. It's a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to Au Bayou. I had no idea Mr. Fontenot had two lovely daughters." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it as she cut her eyes to Cade. That was the same line he'd said to Claire. She wondered if that was a common reply or if he had told him to say that. Her bet was on the latter. The annoying blush crept across her skin.

  "Thank you. You're very sweet." Ty released her hand and smiled, noticing her crimson shade and looked at Cade holding back his laughter.

  She turned and punched Cade's shoulder as hard as she could. "You're such a punk! You told him to do that."

  "Relax, beautiful, no need to be shy in front of these blockheads. They're just like me, only not as handsome or smooth." The two other guys started talking smack, and one of them, Chris, assured her he would embarrass Cade in retaliation.

  She looked at Cade slyly. "I'd be careful, then, if I were you. I may just ask one of these blockheads to entertain me while my dad is gone."

  His smile quickly faded. "It would be over my dead body before I let one of these goons be alone in the same zip code with you."

  They laughed. Chris said, "That could be arranged, you know."

  Cade replied in Cajun, and Ty yelled "Hooyah." They wrestled playfully with each other until Caroline decided it was time for an intervention.

  "So, are you guys gonna show me what this whole daiquiri thing is all about or are we going to stand out here and play?" They called a truce and walked inside. The air was clogged with cigarette smoke. Ugh. I hate smokers. Just as that thought crossed her mind, she saw the quiet one, Henry, light up. He was smaller, more wiry, but still big. His eyes met hers, and she must have made a face because he quickly snuffed it out.

  When she asked Cade what drink he recommended, she apparently snapped him out of a daydream.

  "What do you like?"

  "Huh? Oh, yeah. Um, me personally? I like the Ignitor, but it's strong. I don't know if you need that one."

  "Why? You don't think I can handle it?" she challenged.

  "I don't know, boo. You seem like you might be a bit of a lightweight. You can't get enough of me when you're sober, I'd hate to think of what you might do to me after drinking an Ignitor. You might try to take advantage of me."

  Of course, she should have seen this coming. He provoked her, and she completely missed it. She squared her stubborn jaw and called the waitress over. With the most mocking and sarcastic tone she could manage, she motioned to Cade. "I'll take the same thing this irresistible hunk of a man is having."

  He stared at her for a minute, a playful twinkle in his mischievous eyes, and without looking away ordered. "I'll take a large Ignitor for myself and one for the lady, please." His mouth curved up on one side and he licked his lips seductively. "You sure about this, sweet Caroline? I cannot be responsible for my hands—or my lips—if my brain and good senses are inebriated. And you, my dear, are intoxicating all on your own."

  She leaned in closely, enough to feel the heat from his body, and whispered, "Well, Mr. Beauregard, it would be in your best interest to persuade your good senses to overcome their temptations, since I am promised to someone else." She held up her left hand to remind him, though sure he hadn't forgotten.

  His eyes fell to his wristwatch and his brow raised. "Yes, I remember that you are promised to someone else. Unfortunately, that lucky man has run into a bit of misfortune by sending his lovely bride-to-be down south to convene with a bunch of rough swamp rats who care nothing about his promises. The best I can tell, you have not said the magic words yet. So I still have a little time left on the clock. The game's not over, and lucky for me, the Yankee prince is currently. . .absent."

  Laughter and high-fives didn't blot the flutter she felt deep in her belly with his confidence and no-nonsense approach. He clearly intended to fight for her. She'd never been fought over before and didn't know exactly how to handle it.

  Cade's friends were interesting. The mouthy, obnoxious one, Chris slapped his hand on Cade's sturdy shoulder. "Yeah, beb, your man should be more worried about this cat and his mad skills rather than a bunch of harmless swamp rats! Beau here's a—"

  "Right, Chris. I don't know many things worse than a group of Cajuns up to no good." Cade's eyes warned him to say no more and he nodded in receipt of the silent message.

  Wildly curious to hear what Chris was about to say, what mad skills he was talking about, the look Cade gave him was not something Caroline wanted to approach. She would ask him later what all that was about if the opportunity presented itself.

  She had to admit, she liked his persistence. His attention and desire for her made her feel beautiful and treasured. Part of her, a big part, didn't want him to give up. But the other part, the part that loved Trevor, wished Cade would stop tempting her.

  Cade's buddies had started a game of pool and wanted him to play. He said no at first, but Caroline didn't want to keep him from enjoying himself, and encouraged him play. The waitress brought their daiquiris, Cade tipping generously.

  She sipped her drink while watching the four guys play pool and ruffle each other's feathers. Cade hadn't lied. This very strong drink could probably take the chrome off a bumper. Luckily, her lunch could soak up the alcohol. If only she had her cell phone to at least text Trevor and tell him she was okay.

  After the first few potent sips, her drink tasted more like a smoothie than an alcoholic beverage, and she eventually forgot to sip it. She sucked it down too fast through her straw, and before she knew it she was tipsy. A killer buzz before she'd even made a dent in the daiquiri. Caroline's inhibitions vanished. Her walls down, and terribly vulnerable, but, strangely enough, she didn't care. She felt safe. Well, safe enough, with Cade.

  She discreetly observed Cade and his friends as they gracefully moved around the pool table. Chris seemed clumsier than the others, bumping into one of the bar tables and knocking over an empty beer bottle, but he had skills with a pool stick. He trash talked the most and had a very loud, but infectious laugh. Probably the class clown or life of the party.

  Henry stayed quietly in the corner awaiting his turn, speaking only when spoken to, and smoked like a chimney. He moved smoothly around to a corner, smiled as he sank one of the striped balls, and said something in Cajun before he gave Chris a high-five.

  Ty and Cade, however, moved around the table like panthers stalking their prey. They were large and muscular, but lithe and graceful. Caroline noticed a camaraderie between the two that made them more like brothers than friends. They seemed to know each other's moves before they were made, like they communicated on a wavelength unavailable to anyone else.

  Strange, yet admirable, and Caroline compared their friendship to the one she shared with Kristy. Kristy knew her like no one else, which reminded her that she probably needed to have a look in the mirror. Awareness is key. That was Kristy's philosophy. One would never be caught with spinach in her teeth if she checked them frequently enough.

  In the bar's bathroom, Caroline took one look at herself and cringed. Kristy's scolding voice echoed in her thoughts. She removed her ponytail, fluffed her wavy locks, dabbed tinted lip gloss on her colorless lips, and powdered the shine from her nose and forehead. She straightened her outfit and adjusted her cleavage so the girls wouldn't look droopy. One last glance and her liquid courage deci
ded the reflection this time looked much better.

  She pranced back to her table much happier about her appearance and felt four sets of eyes, and maybe a few more from the bar, following her. She suddenly felt very sexy. A goddess. That nagging voice in her head ordered her to throw the rest of the daiquiri away, but her stubborn inner diva demanded she keep drinking it. Caroline doubted she could finish the enormous cup anyway. Cade sank the eight ball and he and the other guys came back to the table. His eyes widened when he saw how much of her drink she had finished during his short pool game. He smiled and gave her a long once-over.

  "How ya feelin', boo?"

  "Pretty good. How 'bout you, Beau?"

  Clearly well enough for sarcasm, she must have convinced him she wasn't drunk yet because he flipped a chair backwards and straddled it facing the table. He seemed overconfident that she would be by the time they left. She decided to slow down with the frozen deliciousness, but worried she was a tad late. Her mouth moved faster than her brain.

  She desperately wanted to know more about Cade's buddies and their relationship with Eddie. "So, what exactly is it you guys do for my dad?"

  They chuckled and looked at each other to see who would talk first.

  "We hunt alligators for him," Ty said.

  Aware her mouth had dropped open, she snapped it closed. "You. . .hunt alligators? For my dad? Seriously? How? Why?" How had she missed this fascinating little morsel of information? They seemed to enjoy her animated reaction and slid into their heavy accents again. Caroline waited for someone to speak understandably. The tennis match of looking back and forth between them made her head spin. Finally, Chris spoke plain English and included her in their little conversation.

  "We hunt the gators by setting baited traps and then shoot 'em once they're caught on the trap. You know, like the show on T.V., 'cept we don't gotta worry about ratings or cursing."

  "Then what? What does my dad do with them?"

  Ty answered in a steady informative salesman-like tone. "He sells different parts to different people. The tail is good for meat, the head and feet are good for souvenirs, and the skin is good for clothing, shoes or purses. It's a very profitable industry down here."

  She took another swig of her drink, forgetting altogether about slowing down, and continued with her interrogation. "What about the rest of it? Who gets all the extras. . .you know, like the guts?" She laughed at her weak attempt at humor, but the answer quickly shut her up.

  Henry answered with a very serious expression and the rest of the guys grew quiet as well. "Voodoo. The rest of the parts, like the innards and tongue, go to the voodoo priests and priestesses."

  Her eyes burned from lack of blinking. Not a terribly superstitious person, Caroline had always heard to avoid, at all costs, anything having to do with voodoo. But the whole idea and being surrounded by the mystique of it all fascinated her.

  "Voodoo? Like. . .stick a little doll with pins and needles, black magic kind of voodoo?" she snickered. No smiles or laughs from them this time, they simply nodded their heads. She waved her hand dismissing the tension and seriousness, "I don't know about all that. Is that stuff actually for real? I always thought it was just made up stories to scare people. I never thought it was true! Isn't it some kind of religion or something?" Her mouth had now completely detached from her brain and she was about to embarrass herself, but she didn't care. The chills and goose bumps the topic provided were exhilarating.

  Henry looked at Cade. "Go ahead, Beau, tell her what you know about it." All eyes were on Cade now.

  His body language like a coiled snake ready to strike, Cade glared at Henry and spoke, more like yelled, again in the accent so Caroline couldn't understand him. She quickly put a stop to that. "Cade! Stop it! You know I can't understand you, and I want to hear what you have to say!"

  He sat quietly for a minute, brooding. "It's nothing. Henry's just trying to spook you."

  She didn't believe him. "Okay, if it's nothing, then go ahead and tell me." Henry chuckled now as did the other two.

  "Yeah, Cade, if it's nothing just tell her." Henry blew a kiss before taking a long draw from his beer bottle.

  Cade wasn't laughing. His jaw ticked and his angry frown deepened.

  "Great job, Henry. Next time keep your big-ass mouth shut." Cade let out a few stronger curse words before he finally looked into her eyes. "Voodoo is real. It's not a myth or a made up scary story. It's real. Yes, it's a type of religion, but the darkness that exists within is real."

  "How do you know this, exactly?" A little afraid to ask this question, she had to know. Cade shot Henry another hateful look and hesitantly continued.

  "It can get a little confusing, but the story goes. . ." Cade let out a frustrated sigh. "My great grandfather's brother, my G2 uncle, dealt with a voodoo priestess, and it came back to haunt him. It not only haunted him, it haunted his brother, who was my great-grandfather, and my G2's son, my great uncle. I'm not exactly sure what they had dealings about, but I do know it was regarding a debt my great uncle owed someone. Anyway, things didn't end well, and my G2 uncle, who was in perfectly good health, wound up dying of a sudden massive heart attack while simply walking down Canal Street in New Orleans."

  "What happened to the other two, your great grandfather and great uncle?"

  Cade's frown sagged into sorrow. "My great grandfather went missing and was never found. . .not even his body. The son, my great uncle, was the one who had acquired the debt and couldn't repay it. He had a stroke at a very young age, but it didn't kill him. It just paralyzed one side of his body so he couldn't use his hand, and he always walked with a limp. Five years after the stroke, on the very same day, he suffered a heart attack. That didn't kill him either, but he had to have open heart surgery and a few stents. Two years later, on exactly the same day, he was walking through the parking lot at a grocery store and got struck by lightning." Henry snickered and Cade fired a peanut that pegged him in the center of his forehead. That shut him up.

  "Anyway, that didn't even kill him, he was just a little slower mentally and walked all hunched over with a limp. His wife had left with their three children, one of which was a boy, because she was worried the curse would eventually find her son. She thought getting him as far away as she could from my great uncle and the voodoo priestess might save him, so she moved to Texas leaving her family and everything she knew. Three years later he refused to go anywhere on that specific day, so he stayed in his house, watching the news. . .alone. He had a sudden seizure and choked to death on his own tongue. There was no valid explanation for the cause of his seizure."

  Caroline could not believe what she heard. First, she's forced to believe in a ghost, and now voodoo? Unreal. "Was this on the Beauregard side?"

  "No, my momma's side."

  "Cade, I don't want to be the disbelieving skeptic here, but, though it's not impossible to choke on your tongue, it is highly unlikely. I'm in nursing school, and one of the things we've learned in first aid is what to do when someone is having a seizure. If they're on their backs, the tongue relaxes and falls against the soft pallet at the back of the throat blocking the airway. However, they don't literally choke on it. He probably had a seizure lying on his back sleeping, and no one was there to roll him onto his side. Surely there are logical explanations for the other two deaths. I can imagine that the people who knew of their dealings with the voodoo priestess were probably watching closely for some coincidence or something."

  He vehemently shook his head. "No, Caroline, it's real, and you have to promise me you will never let your ridiculously insane curiosity ever get you mixed up with it. Like you said, it's actually a type of religion and there are plenty of people down here who believe in it and the curses that can go along with it."

  She had no intention of researching it, because she didn't believe in it. For now at least.

  Twenty-One