Page 49 of Remy

Shelby touched Remy’s arm. “She’s a good Voodoo priestess-in-training with her grandmother.”

“And the cousin?” he asked, rubbing the cloth bag between his thumb and fingers.

“Lissette has always been a wild thing,” Shelby said. “Her father, Madame Gautier’s son, disappeared when Lissette was little, and her mother has bounced from relationship to relationship, leaving Lissette alone so often she pretty much raised herself.”

“That doesn’t bode well for her own ability to maintain a good relationship with anyone, male or female.”

Shelby nodded. “Exactly. Madame Gautier tried to bring her under her wing several times, but her mother refused to let her stay long enough for her grandmother to be a good influence. Instead, she picked up some of Madame Gautier’s spells and potions for not-so-good uses.”

“Again, should we be worried?”

“Only if you believe in all that mumbo jumbo,” Shelby said.

“I’d rather believe and take precautions than suffer the consequences.”

Shelby grinned. “Welcome home to the bayou, Remy.”

He sighed. “I’d forgotten how superstitious people could be here.”

Shelby closed the front door and turned to him. “It’s all part of the charm of Bayou Mambaloa.” She planted her fists on her hips. “So, what’s the plan for today? Are we going back out into the bayou to poke around?”

“Since we’re going to poke around at the Fontenots’ in the bayou this evening, I thought we might look around town for a place to set up shop for my Bayou Brotherhood Protectors. They’ll be heading south soon, and I want to be ready with lodging and have a site nailed down for our offices, both temporary and permanent.”

“You need a real estate agent? LaShawnda Jones is good. I’ll give her a call and set up a time for us to meet.”

“Sounds good. And while we’re out, we can look around town for places that could work as drug distribution sites. You never know, the traffickers could be working right under our noses.”

Shelby nodded. “I was thinking the same. This town used to be larger than it is now, with a booming fishing industry and businesses that supported fishing and the people who worked here.” Her lips turned downward. “It’s a shame when a town or parts of it die. Most of the young people migrate to larger cities to find work and never come back.”

Remy nodded. “I noticed that there are more stores and restaurants open since I left twenty years ago.”

Shelby smiled. “Tourism has helped to revive much of Bayou Mambaloa. Over the years, the town council has come up with more ways to draw visitors. We have annual music festivals and parades, and we advertise the beauty and mysteriousness of the bayou.”

“How soon can we get with your real estate agent?” Remy asked.

“I’ll give her a call now. I can be ready in fifteen minutes.”

“I only need five,” he said with a grin. “If we can’t see your friend right away, we can drive around looking for now.”

They split up and went to their separate bathrooms.

Shelby called LaShawnda, who had immediate availability. She’d contact sellers, arrange to see available buildings and meet them in the town square in fifteen minutes.

“Perfect,” Shelby said. “See ya there.”

Fifteen minutes later, Shelby and Remy parked the truck in the town square beside a sleek black SUV.

LaShawnda stepped out dressed in a tangerine pantsuit, matching long-tipped acrylic fingernails and chunky gold jewelry around her neck and wrists. Her thick hair was straight with streaks of auburn hanging down to her shoulders, and she wore Hollywood sunglasses.

“Shelby, darling.” She stepped forward in bright gold strappy three-inch heels. “I heard you ran into some trouble in the bayou.” She wrapped her arms around Shelby and hugged her briefly. “I’m glad to see you’re recovering nicely. I don’t know what this community would do without you and the rest of the sheriff’s department to protect us.”

“Thank you, LaLa,” she said. “It’s good to see you. You’ve been gone for a couple of weeks, right?”

“I have. I went to a Real Estate convention in Atlanta. But I’m back and ready to put my knowledge to work.” She turned to Remy with a big, beautiful smile. “And who is this scrumptious man? Please tell me he’s single.”

“Remy, this is LaShawnda Jones. LaLa, do you remember Remy Montagne? He was in high school with Chrissy when we were still in junior high.”

One well-sculpted brow lifted. “You’re the Remy Chrissy dated in high school?” She held out her hand. “Whatever you’ve been up to since, keep doing it. You look amazing. Are you in town for long?”

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