Free Voodoo Love (And the Curse of Jean Lafitte’s Treasure) by Victoria Richards Page A

seems, Elizabeth ."
                  "Seemed." I corrected. "He's dead now."
                  Juan frowned.  "Is he?"
                  "Isn't he?" I stared at him confused. "I know you were out of the room a second, doing whatever ghosts do, but Diego shot him."
                  "Did you see any blood?"
                  "Of course I---" I stopped, and thought back to that awful moment. Diego shot him in the chest. I remembered that clearly, but we'd gotten out of there so fast that I didn't really remember seeing any blood.
                  "Your husband claims to be a cop, right?" Juan probed. "Who exactly does he work for?"
                  "The Barataria police force now, but before that he was an undercover cop in New Orleans ."
                  "And you know that how?"
                  "Because he told me so."
                  "When did he get involved in your case?"
                  "He was one of the people who pulled me out of the life raft the day you died. That's when I first met him. We bonded…and he helped me with the Feds." I tilted my head to the side. "What are you trying to say?"
                  "Think about it. It's too much of a coincidence that he was in Laveau's Lounge and one of the cops that picked you up from the lifeboat. He's an agent."
                  "Okay, maybe he is. I mean, what's the big deal? It's no secret the Feds wanted us to stay together. They arranged our fake marriage for protection. Maybe they wanted him to get info out of me."
                  "I didn't say he was an agent for your government." Juan lifted an eyebrow and nodded at me as comprehension dawned. "It may be for the best that he's out of the picture. I'm not sure where his loyalties really lie, but I know one thing for certain. His heart belongs to another."
                  "Who?"
                  How could Eddie be involved with someone else? When did he have time?
                  "Shhh…we can discuss it later." Juan stilled, his body tense. "Do you hear that?"
                  I listened, trying not to dwell on the little patch of jealousy that sliced through me as I thought of Eddie with another woman. At first, I heard nothing, but then there was a low humming sound. After a moment I realized it was drums. Somewhere in the bayou they were being played in a slow, almost intoxicating rhythm. The cadence rose, snaking its way through the night, and making me uneasy. Juan put a finger to his lips and beckoned me to follow. I sucked down another gulp of vodka for courage and tried to keep up with his pace.
                  We stopped at a little cove deep in the bayou. Perched on the land was a boat, what the Cajuns called a pirogue. It's small and used for traveling in the murky bayou waters when a regular sized boat can't do the job. Some of them have motors you can hang over the side to help them move, but this one was pretty crude. All I saw to help maneuver it was a long thick stick.
                  "Uh-uh," I said. "You've got to be kidding. I'm not getting in that boat. We'll sink. Or an alligator will throw us over with one swat of his tail."
                  "It's safe." Juan bent over the boat and pushed it off the bank. "Come on."
                  "Juan, I--"
                  " Elizabeth , there are all kinds of things in the bayou, things that you don't want to encounter. Please get into the boat."
                  Things? That didn't sound good. I managed to get in the boat, tensing as it rocked precariously from side to side. Juan pushed off using the stick and then we were gliding through the swamp, towards the drums.
                  Without a moon to guide us, the swamp was just eerie, and I heard odd sounds that I couldn't