Mudbugs and Pirates

A hot Texas summer and the lust for more than gold bring two unlikely women together in a search for lost treasure. Could the peaceful rice farm of Mary-Lou Marenette actually be the burying place of the famous pirate Jean Lafitte's lost treasure? Jay Regaud means to find out and no one is going to stand in her way.

Chapter One

Mudbugs and Pirates

Gerald was a sleepy farm town snuggled under a blanket of hot, humid Texas sun. Everything there was slow: slow meals, slow talk, slow change. Even the stray hound ignored the occasional dusty pickup passing by and lay contentedly in the shade of the massive oak in the town square.

Heat rose off the pavement in a shimmering veil. In pretty, well tended gardens, honeysuckle, sweetpea and daisies buzzed with hidden honey bees and cicadas. Moss hung motionless from the trees and the occasional lizard scurried from sight beneath a rock. Like many of the old towns of the south, there were dividing lines of colour. To the north, prosperous homes were neat and well kept. American flags hung from houses or cement statues of bald eagles sat in gardens. Here there was pride in the history of the community and the family. White clapboard, white picket fences, white America.

To the south, closer to the shipping docks, refineries and fishing fleets, was the black community. Here there was colour, sound and family but not money. Homes clung together for support. A community weather beaten and socially beaten, they clung to the edge of society. They still believed here in the American Dream but not in their chance of living it.

Farther out of town, hidden behind scrubby patches of oak, pine and tallow were the shacks of the field workers. Mexicans without citizenship, blacks without hope, they followed the seasons: planting, tending, harvesting just as the slaves had done two hundred years before.

Jay Regaud slipped her sunglasses on as she stepped out of the ShooFly Diner. The heat wrapped around her like an oven mitt. For a few minutes, she enjoyed the radiant warmth that sunk to bones chilled by the air conditioning of the diner. Soon, however, the sticky humidity settled between her breasts, trickled down her back and pooled damp and hot between her legs. Her tailored khaki shirt and shorts clung to her well-toned and tanned body. She could understand why, when a Texan said "shit," they drew the sound out so that the word became three syllables. It took a long swear word to describe this heat.

Jay walked back to her old Chevy pickup. In the back of it, an equally old dirt bike lay wedged between a truck toolbox and a knapsack. She slid with a grimace onto the hot seat. She cranked down the driver's window and then stretched her long, lean body over to crank down the passenger's side window too. Maybe she had gone too far with the role-playing in buying this piece of junk. Air conditioning here was not a luxury. It was a breathing apparatus, a scuba tank of cool, fresh air in a humid sea of scalding atmosphere. She cranked over the engine and cringed as the old Chevy, with a backfire of smoke, started rocking to its own variation of all pistons firing.

Time to put her plan into gear. She'd spent three years researching and now it was time to motor forward. She rolled down Main Street heading towards Rouge Island.

Mary-Lou Marenette flung the wrench across the barn with a growl of frustration. It bounced off the old planks with a thud and dropped to the bales of hay below.

"Maybe, if yer tried tuning her over again, Mary-Lou. She might start if'in she had a mind." Bubba slipped off the tractor seat and ambled over to pick up the wrench with a big, blue-black mitt of a hand. Bubba thought all mechanical things were just people with gear parts and if you waited long enough they either got better or died.

Mar wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. Her red hair hung limply or stuck to her fair skin annoyingly. She looked at her hired man and smiled. "I'm thinking, Bubba, this tractor falls into your dead category."

Bubba walked over and handed the wrench back to the small, young woman.

"Thanks." Mar blushed. "I shouldn't have lost my temper. It does no good."

"It's the red hair, I reckon. Red heads always have the temper. Yer old dad could curse somethin' awful when he got riled and just about anything could get him in that state." Bubba looked at the tractor with a calculating eye. "Now ya got that outta yer system, it might not hurt to try gettin' this thing goin' again. The durn thing is barely twenty year old. Why, at that age, I'd work all day just to limber up for the dance at the community hall."

Mar laughed and poked her old friend affectionately. "I'll try, Bubba. How about you see to feeding the cattle some hay and then head home. Martha will be wanting to head into town for her groceries this afternoon."

Bubba smiled, glad to be given the chance to leave a bit early. "I'll do that. Now don't you be workin' to all hours. You just put these bits and pieces back on and let ‘er rest over night and she'll be fine in the mornin'."

Mar left Bubba to load the hay on the old Ford pickup and went back to trying to set the spark plugs. The afternoon wore on. Finally, she sighed and wiped the tears of frustration from her cheeks as she leaned her head on the wheel fender. She was so tired.

"Praying over them rarely helps. I understand the good Lord helps those who help themselves."

Mar jumped and turned to see a tall woman with broad shoulders and a lean, hard body standing in the doorway of the shed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you'd have heard my truck a mile away. It needs a new exhaust system, among other things."

The petite woman by the tractor wore overalls and a blue t-shirt. Grease seemed to be her only choice in make-up and her red hair had been controlled by pulling it into a ponytail through the back of her Dallas Cowboys cap.

Mar wiped her hands on a rag and walked over. "Can I help you?"

"No, but I might be able to help you. I'm a good mechanic."

"You are?"

Jay smiled. "Well, not licensed, but in the Navy you quickly learn how to fix almost anything. Besides, some people have a way with animals. I have a way with motors. They talk to me."

Mar looked back at the old tractor. "This one has been refusing to speak for a week and we need it for cutting hay."

"Do you want me to have a look?"

"Who are you?"

"Jay Regaud."

Mar looked liked like she'd been hit. "Oh. I wasn't expecting you until next month."

"I had business down here and just took the chance to drop in and see if I could look the place over."

A greasy hand nervously pushed back some escaping hair, leaving an extra smudge of black on Mary-Lou's forehead. "I'm not sure yet, Ms. Regaud, if I even want to sell."

The lazy smile hovered again at the corner of Jay's lips. "So I heard. I assume you are Mary-Lou Marenette."

"Forgive me. I'm forgetting my manners. Yes, I'm Mar Marenette." Mar went to offer a dirty hand, then thought better of it and wiped it on her work pants instead. "Please come up to the house. I'm sure you could do with a drink."

"That would be nice. It's a real hot day."

"Seasonal for this time of year."

They settled in the shade of the verandah where a gentle breeze off the river cooled them and surrounded them with the scent of rich, damp earth and the sea. Jay sipped her iced tea with relief. "How far are we from the Gulf here?"

"Not far. About five miles. Rouge Island is one of the many islands that fills the mouth of the river."

Jay nodded. "Can you bring a boat up this far?"

"Oh sure, when the tide's in, but you'd be stuck once it went out."

Jay nodded and fell silent. She looked across the flat land with calculating eyes.

Mar pulled nervously at a loose thread in the pillow, not sure whether she should open the discussion about property rights or not.

"I guess we are related then."

Jay snapped back from her thoughts and steel grey eyes focused on the woman beside her. "Very distantly. We share the same great, great, great grandfather on our father's side. That would have been Harley Lee Regaud."

Mar nodded. "Yes, his name is in the family Bible. As I understand it, one of his eight sons, Joe-Bob, left the family farm and moved out west during the ‘49 gold rush. The family sort of lost touch after that, which is why my ancestor was never able to buy your family's share in the land. My great, great grandfather, Sonny Marenette, married Gladys Regaud, one of Harley's daughters and bought out the Regauds except for Joe-Bob's share. Is there still family out in California?"

"Just me now."

Mar smiled mischievously. "And did great, great, Uncle Joe-Bob strike gold?"

"Yes, he did."

Mar's eyes got big. "He did?"

"A small claim. It made him enough to start up as a gold smith. I guess the love of gold is in the genes."

"Are you a jeweler then?"

"No, but my father was. I joined the Navy."

"Oh. Are you still serving?"

"No. As I told you in my letter, as the only surviving member of Joe-Bob's family, I own one eight of the property." Mar fiddled with her glass and licked her lips before responding. " I saw a lawyer after I got your letter. He's not sure you can claim inheritance. My family has worked this land a long time."

Jay smiled. It was the smile of an opponent enjoying the challenge rather than that of a friend. "True, they have. But my family has always paid the taxes on our share of the land. And that makes me the legal owner under Texas law."

Green eyes narrowed a fraction and the mouth tightened. "Well, I guess we'll have to see about that. In your letter you made the offer to buy me out."

"Yes."

"I'm looking at that truck you are driving and wondering where you are going to get the money."

"Don't you worry, Ms. Marenette. I've got enough money saved from my Navy days to make a fair offer. There was no point in wasting what I got on a new truck when an old one would get me here just as well. Now I figure we can continue throwing threats and innuendoes at each other or we can call a truce and just wait to see how things work out. "

There was a moment's hesitation. "Okay, a truce, for now."

"Good. Now would you like me to change and have a look at your tractor? I really do know engines."

"What's the catch?"

Jay laughed. "You sure pegged me quickly, lady. I'd like dinner and I'd like to stay around here for a few days. Get to know the old homestead if I can. Well?" Mar shrugged but managed a smile. "You might own one eighth of everything, so I guess you have that right."

"I guess I do. I'd better get that tractor fixed then. A broken tractor isn't worth shit."

Mar looked shocked but said nothing. Swearing was not something a Texas lady did.

Jay worked late into the night by the single bare bulb that hung from a wire from the shed's beams. It cast a cone of yellow light around the tractor and beyond shadows played at being monsters among the old farm equipment and hay bales. Mosquitoes and moths flew in and out of the light or came close enough to Jay to meet a quick death. Crickets out in the grass filled the night air with a continual buzz and occasionally a bug frog croaked out a warning.

Jay slapped at a mosquito and then wiped the sweat from her face with her sleeve. The tractor had proven to be more of a challenge than she had realized. She felt cranky and tired. With a sigh, she swung up on the metal seat and turned the key. The old engine cranked over several times and then caught, bouncing noisily on the spot. Exhaust bellowed from the pipe and, as Jay stepped on the clutch and put it in gear, the tractor leaped forward, choked, caught again and rolled ahead with a great groan of protest. Jay fought the wheel all the way over to the house. Left on its own, the tractor would keep bearing right.

Mar came to the door as Jay turned the tractor off and waited for the engine to stop coughing." Well, I don't believe it. I never thought I'd be laying eyes on this old thing in motion again."

Jay grinned and raised an eyebrow cockily. "She's moving but I need to work on her more yet. There are a few parts that I need to replace before I'd be prepared to drive her out of sight of the shed."

"What parts?"

"Oh, just about everything but the seat, and it could do with a cushion."

Mar laughed. "Well, the cushion I can probably manage, but how much else will be limited to what is left in the farm budget."

"Is that dinner I smell?"

"Come on in and wash up," Mar smiled, holding the screen door open.

Like many southern women, Mar could set a good table. Dinner was chicken-fried steak covered in white gravy and served with creamy mashed potatoes and fresh, crisp green beans. They washed it down with iced tea and they finished the meal with pecan pie. Jay could barely move by the time she'd cleaned her plate. It had to have been one of the best meals she had ever eaten.

"I thought you said we were having chicken. That was beef."

"Lady, here in Texas if it isn't the best cut of prime rib or a two inch t-bone, it's not beef. That was a steak cutlet, pounded to tenderize it, and soaked in garlic and beer before the batter was put on and it was deep fried."

"God, if this is Texas cooking, I'm willing to let my arteries clog. I'll meet my maker with a contented smile on my face."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Jay leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table as she leaned her chin on her hands. "You seem more at home in the kitchen than out on the fields. Why are you trying to work a farm this size by yourself?"

Green eyes flashed with annoyance and then turned dull with sadness. "Mom passed away nine years ago, dad two years ago, just after I married." Married?" The question had popped out unintended. That was an important piece of information that Jay had not known.

"I never got the chance to change my name. Billy was killed in a car crash a few weeks later. A drunk driver."

"I'm sorry."

Mar blinked back tears. "Billy and I, we grew up together. His parents' farm is just north of here. I guess it was just understood that we'd marry. We were good friends."

"Friends? That's all?"

"There wasn't much time for love to grow."

"Perhaps."

"Anyway, I was left with the farm. That's all I've got. Well, now there is you and an eighth less."

"I might be worth that eighth. Did you ever think of that?"

Mar got up and started clearing dishes. "You have a way with old engines, I'll give you that, but what do you know about running a farm like this? Nothing. At least I grew up here and know what I have to do."

"It's a rice farm, isn't it? So you flood the paddies and grow rice."

Mar snorted. "Yeah, we do that and then we tend the fields and harvest and the following year we'll flood different acreage and raise craws in the original fields instead. We run a herd of cattle too, just to diversify our product."

"Craws?"

"Crawfish."

"Oh."

Mar shook her head, crossed her arms and looked at the woman still sitting at the table. "You know anything about farming and I'm not sure you care so I'm really wondering, Ms. Regaud..."

"Jay."

"I'm really wondering, Jay, why you want this land so badly."

Jay smiled. "I'm just sentimental, I guess."

Mar laughed. "What? For two hundred acres of flat mud? Or is crawfishing in your genes like gold?"

"Well, I did run away to the sea. It was the thought of Mermaids though, I think."

"Wait here." Mar disappeared into the living room and returned with a load of magazines with the less than catchy title of Texas Rice Farming. ‘Here's some bedtime reading for you."

"Magazines are not what I usually take to bed," Jay grinned and enjoyed the rush of red that flooded Mary-Lou's face.

"Ah yes, well, this will have to do. If you are going to stick around here for a while you'd better start learning."

"Kernel smut: The black soot menace. Controlling winter run-off with flashboards. Crawfish purging pros and cons," read Jay, as she shuffled through magazines. "I can see my nights are going to be packed full of excitement."Mar smiled wickedly. "Enjoy."

The next day, Mar took Jay around the farm in her jeep.

"These field are planted with rice. We had problems with erosion, so we have put in a new pipe system and flashboards. We actually let the winter water sit on the fields. The layer of still water prevents erosion from heavy spring rains or flash floods. Then we can slowly drain water off and use it as we need to. That has really helped but it wasn't a cheap undertaking.

"The key to rice farming is to make sure you keep checking the nitrogen levels. If it gets too high, kernel smut develops."

"I was reading about that last night, Mary-Lou, something about planting soy after."

"Call me Mar. Yes, that's right. Crop rotation not only helps balance nitrogen levels but it also helps reduce insects."

She drove on down the dirt lane that separated huge flooded beds of rice. "We use grass buffers to reduce erosion too. You'll note here the levees are higher. We'd like eventually to make them all higher. That would allow us to raise craw on more acreage. The water has to be deeper than we'd normally use for rice so the craw boats can be pulled through. These beds are all raising crawdads."

"Crawdads?"

"Crawfish, craws, crawdads and mud bugs, they're all the same thing."

"Oh. Where do you get them?"

"They are naturally in the ground. As the ground dries out, you'll see little mud chimneys where they have dug deeper into the wet mud below. We flood the field and the rice stubble provides a great place for the microorganisms that the craw feed on to grow. Then we'll set traps similar to lobster pots to catch them."

Mar pointed. "Those white cylinders out there are the tops of the traps. We use PVC pipe so the crawdads can't crawl out. The traps are emptied each day."

Jay nodded, starting to realize just how much Mar knew about farming and how technical farming really was.

Next, they visited the cattle pasture where fallow land was used for grazing while it rested. "We actually harvest the rice plants to make chop for the cattle. By adding processed feed to the chop we can increase growth and weight of our cattle considerably. We try not to waste any resource on the farm."

"Who's we?" The question sounded almost suspicious on Jay's lips.

"Bubba, me and the five to six seasonals we have working here. You'll probably meet Bubba over at the drying hampers. He started out doing odd jobs around the farm as a boy for my dad. Now he's more of a field manager. I'd have never been able to hang on here without him. He's great."

"Oh." Jay didn't like that there was another influence on the farm. Bubba could be trouble.

Caught up in sharing her work, Mar didn't notice the change in Jay's attitude. She drove on to where the drying hoppers and crawfish-processing barn were located, stopped the jeep in front of the barn and swung out.

"Once the craw have been caught they are brought here to this barn and put in big tanks of clean well water. That allows time for the mud to wash off them and for them to purge the mud from their systems," explained Mar, as she pushed the heavy barn door back.

"You mean shit it out of them."

"I was trying not to be so crude."

Jay smiled.

Mar went over to a massive cooler and opened the door for Jay to look in. "Once the craw are cleaned, we put them in thirty-five pound bags and store them here."

"You freeze them to death?"

"No. At forty degrees Fahrenheit, they go into a state of hibernation. We keep them like that for shipping. Because we go through the process of cleaning and purging, our crawdads don't have to be soaked in salt or vinegar before cooking."

"What do they taste like?"

"You've never had crawdaddies?"

"No."

"You're in for a Texas treat."

Jay smiled wickedly and looked into her petite guide's emerald green eyes. "I sure hope so."

Mar licked her lips nervously and quickly headed for the barn door. Jay followed more slowly whistling softly.

Jay climbed in to find Mar sitting rigidly behind the wheel. "I'll thank you to remember that this is Texas, Ms. Regaud."

Jay laughed. "I'm an officer and a lady, Ms. Marenette. Your virtue is safe. But now we both know where we stand."

Mar put the jeep in gear without another word and swung the wheel violently as they did a U turn and headed over to the hampers where Bubba now stood watching them. He was a mountain of a man and Mar looked fragile and tiny next to him.

"Bubba, this is Jay Regaud. I told you about her letter. She was down here on business and decided to spend a few days on the farm."

"Good day. I hope you're enjoyin' yer tour of Rouge Island Farm."

"Thanks."

"I'm showing Jay the business side of farming. She was under the impression that we just planted the rice in paddies and waited for the Good Lord to provide."

Bubba's laugh started low and bubbled to the surface like Old Faithful going off. "Well now, there'd be a little more to it than that.""So I've discovered."

Bubba pointed a thumb back over his shoulder.

"These here are where the rice is dried. It gotta be done right or the yield and quality are low. I'd better get back to checkin' it. Mary-Lou, you call me iff'in you need any help." Bubba looked down at Jay meaningfully and then stalked off.

"I think I was just threatened ever so politely."

"Bubba's protective."

"I'm not a threat."

"That remains to be seen. Optimum harvest conditions are when the average rice kernel is at a eighteen to nineteen percent moisture level. Then we harvest. Once the rice is in the bins we want to reduce the temperature and moisture as quickly as possible without over drying. This system actually monitors the exterior humidity and temperature and fans will automatically come on to maintain the interior environment we need. By maintaining an EMC of 12.5 %..."

"EMC?"

"Equilibrium Moisture Content."

"Thanks."

"We can maximize quality and by chilling the rice to sixty degrees Fahrenheit, we can reduce loss to insects. Most insects in this area become inactive at that temperature."

"Fascinating."

"You're bored."

"No, just on overload and damn hungry. It's almost two o'clock. Would it be inappropriate of me to invite you to lunch in Gerald?"

Mar hesitated and then seemed to relax. "No, no that would be nice and while we are there we could buy a few parts for the tractor at the scrapyard."

"Scrapyard?"

"If you plan to farm, you'd better get used to pinching pennies."

In Gerald, Mar did the ordering for the two of them. "Jasmine, we'll have two plates of your beans and mudbugs and a couple of ice teas, please."

"Do I want to try this?"

"This is the southern experience. Bubba will tell you that Jasmine's beans and mudbugs are about as close as you can get to heaven this side of the pearly gates."

"I'd better enjoy them then, because I hear my kind are lucky to get even a close encounter with Saint Peter's pearly gates."

"Can we change the topic?"

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"No...Yes...Lets talk about something else."

Jay laughed. "Okay, tell me what I'm going to eat."

"Well Jasmine's recipe is a secret, of course, but basically she cooks ham, crawfish tails and pinto beans together for most of a day and then adds rice, hot peppers, onions, garlic and smoked sausage and simmers it until everything is cooked real well. She'll serve it with cornbread. It's pretty rich but nothing tastes as good."

"I think I should have put my California stomach in training for this visit. My idea of fish for dinner is sushi."

Mar crunched up her nose. "Wait until you try a mess of beans and craws. There will be no going back."

Later, Jay had to admit it had been a fine meal. They lingered over the remains and talked about all sorts of things, discovering that they had more in common than they thought they would. Then they headed out to the scrap yard to get a distributor and gearbox for the tractor. Mar had already changed the battery and points and with these parts and a proper wheel aliment, Jay was confident that she could get the old tractor operational again.

They headed back to the island feeling contented and happy with their day.

The evening drew in around the old clapboard farmhouse like a drawstring of darkness. Mar switched on lamps and busied herself with farm paper work at the wooden harvest table in the kitchen. Jay snooped about the house stopping at each picture and looking at it intently. Many were old photos of relatives. One in particular had caught her eye: a lean man wearing a stylish hat and coat of the early 1800s."That's Jean Lafitte," a voice came from behind her.

"The pirate."

"Hero of New Orleans."

"He was a pirate though."

"Not in these parts. He fought to protect the South. He might have lived outside the boundary of the law but he always was a good American who was there when his country needed him."

"He was a slaver."

"Yes. And I'm embarrassed that our ancestor could have held such views and participated in such an ugly part of America's history. They were different times. In many ways ignorant times. I try to focus on the good things he did. You seem to know a lot about him."

"Only a little. Tell me about him."

They settled on the porch swing and rocked gently as Mar explained the legend of Lafitte.

"Jean Lafitte was so famous, or perhaps notorious, in his time that Lord Byron actually wrote a poem about him. He wrote, he linked one virtue to a thousand crimes. I don't know if that is a true assessment. I think Lafitte had many virtues, not least among them was that he was a loyal and brave American. I can't deny though that there was an ugly side to his life."

"Tell me more," Jay encouraged softly.

"They called him the King of Barataria, which was the name of the area he explored. He was also known as The Corsair, the Terror of the Gulf and the Hero of New Orleans." Mar laughed. "I guess like most people he was a mixture of good and bad.

"There was no doubt that he was a pirate. Although he never attacked American vessels, three times the American government charged him with piracy and each time he managed to charm his way into an exoneration. There is no doubt that the War of 1812 battle for New Orleans was won by the South because Jean Lafitte and his men came to the aid of Andrew Jackson."

"A rogue with a heart of gold?"

Mar considered. "No. He never saw himself as a pirate, just as a Southern gentlemen doing his part to maintain the life style of the Deep South. He hated the label of pirate and always referred to himself as a privateer."

"So where was Barataria?" Jay probed, leaning back, her eyes closed but her attention on every word Mar said." The swamps of the New Orleans area. It was a pretty wild and virtually unexplored place at that time. Lafitte was able to take a collection of poor fishermen, sailors, smugglers and adventurers and mould them into a force of a thousand fighting men and privateers. His plundering provided not only slaves but much needed supplies for the South in those days. He'd actually go from place to place along the Mississippi deltas providing for the small communities that the government didn't care about. People here haven't forgotten that.

"He admired the United States very much, although some say he was from France and others from Haiti. What is known is that he knew this coast line like the back of his hand and it was he who protected and provided for the Cajuns and Creoles with his stolen black market goods."

"So you admire rogues do you?" Jay couldn't help but ask.

"Well, no, but well, Lafitte was different. He was supposed to be very much the Southern gentleman and they say the ladies loved him."

Jay laughed. "I'm sure."

Mar ignored her and went on with her story. "Anyway, after the Louisiana Purchase, the new governor had Lafitte imprisoned several times and his home, somewhere in the swamps and bayous of the New Orleans area, was burnt to the ground. But when the territory and New Orleans were under attack it was Lafitte and his men who arrived to fight . I guess one of the reasons Lafitte is so interesting is that he was such a complex individual. On the one hand, legend indicates he was a ruthless, violent pirate with no regard for the laws of the sea. On the other hand, he was supposedly very charming, well read, and caring of those with whom he identified. He was a dangerously seductive man, I imagine."

"I think I like him."

"You would," Mar laughed. Then she went on with her tale. "There is a building still in New Orleans' French Quarter called Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop that was supposedly one of his bases of operation. But in 1817, he was forced out of New Orleans and established himself on an island near today's Galveston, Texas only about fifty miles from here."

"So is this where he enters our family history?"

"Yes. He bought a home there from the French pirate Louis-Michel Aury and named it Maison Rouge."

"Rouge, like in Rouge Island?"

Mar shrugged. "Around that time he married Madelaine Regaud but before long the Americans sent out the man-of-war USS Enterprise to force him out again. The story is that Lafitte refused to fight the Americans, packed up his fortunes and left, never to be heard of again."

"What kind of ending is that?"

Mar laughed. "Some say he died a few years later in a hurricane but no one seems to know where he'd been before that. In the 1950s, a diary appeared in the hands of supposedly one of his descendants that said Lafitte had taken his wife's name and had lived the life of a gentlemen in St. Louis until 1840. Who knows. What I can tell you is that the family legend has it that this land once belonged to his wife and that after leaving Galveston, he came here and buried a good part of this treasure for safe keeping."

"And you've never looked for it?"

Mar snorted. "This coast is loaded with stories of pirates, curses and hidden treasure. Rice and crawfish might not be very romantic but it's a better living than chasing pipe dreams and hidden pirate gold."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. That's not the passion of gold fever I see in your eye is it, Jay?""No, it's the passion caused by moonlight, the southern air and the beauty of my hostess."

Mar jumped up immediately and backed away. "Time for bed."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Ms. Regaud!"

"Yes?"

"Nothing. Good night."

Mar scooted into the house and Jay remained on the porch swing, whistling softly to herself as she listened to the sounds of Mar getting ready for bed in the room above her head. Much later, she took the metal detector and shovel from the locker in the back of the pickup and headed out into the fields.

Chapter Two: Ghosts from the Past

Jay was in the kitchen making coffee when Mar came down the next morning, her hair all neatly tied back and wearing a pretty cotton dress. Jay gave her the once-over and smiled.

"You look cute. So, what's the occasion?"

"It's Sunday."

"So?"

"Church."

"Oh."

"You don't go to church?"

Jay leaned on the counter sipping her coffee contentedly. "God and I have cursed each other into the low levels of hell a long time ago and now pretty much leave each other alone."

Mar looked shocked. "I'll say a pray for you then."

Jay couldn't help herself. She put her cup on the counter walked over and kissed Mar gently on the cheek. "Thanks." Mar's hand came up and covered the spot where she had been kissed as if it was scalded. "Oh!" Then she was gone. Jay stood in the doorway smiling as she watched Mar climb into her jeep and head down the road.

The smile disappeared with Mary-Lou's dust trail. Jay was all business now. She took her small digital camera from her pocket and went into the living room where Mar kept a desk and file cabinet in one corner. First, she went through the desk and then the file cabinet. Mar was meticulously neat and organized. The file labeled "Family History" gave her much of what she needed. Another labeled "Deeds and Maps" was also photographed. One map, from the early 1800s, clearly showed the original island boundaries and family lots. Jay hoped she could superimpose this image over the modern one she had found of the island.

By the time Mar got back from church, Jay was in her overalls, working on the tractor in the shed. An hour later, Jay was called in for lunch. There was fresh avocado salad, spicy tacos and, for dessert, ice cream pie.

"I'm going to get so fat staying here," groaned Jay, pushing back from the table.

"On the farm, we like to have our big meal at noon and a lighter meal at night."

"You're an excellent cook."

"Thank you and I'm a good farmer too," responded Mar, her eyes sparking over the memory of the remark Jay had made the first day they'd met.

Jay blushed. "Yes, you are. I learned a lot yesterday, at least enough to know to keep my mouth shut about things I don't understand."

"And a greater respect for farmers too, I hope."

"That too. Well, I'd better get back at that tractor. I think if I don't run into any major problems I can get her up and running by nightfall."

"That would be great. We sure need that old thing for harvest. Oh! I meant to tell you. I met someone at church today who asked about you. He said he knew you from your naval days. His name was Blackwell. He had flowers put on the altar in memory of his late mother. Wasn't that caring? He seemed like such a nice man. He's interested in the land for sale north of us and plans to retire here and farm."

Jay stiffened. "Lance Blackwell?"

"Why yes! So you do know him?"

"Stay away from him, Mar. He's bad news."

Mar looked annoyed and started cleaning up the dishes.

"He seemed very nice to me. A Christian and very well spoken, not like some I know," she added for good measure.

Jay walked over and looked down at Mar with stormy eyes. "I might be a queer and a sinner in your eyes but I'm a damn sight better person than Blackwell. I'm warning you, Mar, stay away from him."

The chin went up. "And if I don't?"

"Then you are a damn fool. I'm going to work on the tractor." The screen door slammed shut behind Jay and Mar, left alone in the kitchen with the dishes, stuck out her tongue at the retreating figure.

Some time later, Mar took a cold drink out to Jay to try to ease the tension between them but Jay wasn't in the shed, nor had the tractor been worked on. Jay's old Chevy was missing too.

In town, Jay clicked off her cell phone with a satisfied grin on her face. From her parking spot under a shady tree, she watched the Gerald Hotel entrance. Lance Blackwell walked up the sidewalk and entered the lobby. Jay gave him half an hour and then got out of her truck and crossed the street to the Grand Gerald .

Entering the old hotel, she walked across the old stately lobby to the counter.

"Hello. Lovely day, isn't it. I'm Jay Regaud. I'm staying out at Rouge Island Farm."

"Certainly, Miss Regaud. We heard you were staying with Mary-Lou. What can we do for you?"

"I wasn't sure if I'd be staying at the farm or here at the hotel, so I did leave the hotel's address for some of my associates out on California. Could I trouble you to see if any mail was left here for me."

"Of course, Miss."

The clerk checked a pigeonhole where several letters sat.

"No, I don't see anything."

"Well, I actually was expecting a parcel. Could you just check in the back and see if it was left there?"

"One minute."

While the clerk was gone, Jay went around the counter, checked the computer and got Blackwell's room number. She was back on the other side looking at the hotel's menu by the time the clerk came back.

"Sorry."

"Dear me, you just can't rely on the postal service like you used to."

"I'll keep my eye out for it, Miss Regaud."

"Thanks."

Jay headed down towards the back entrance and then quickly disappeared up the backstairs. She climbed to the third floor and found the right room. It was a simple Yale lock. First looking both ways first to see no one was about, she pulled out a slim piece of metal from her wallet and wedged it into the crack between the doorframe and the door. Carefully, she wiggled the metal until it slipped behind the tongue of the lock. With a quick sideways push, the tongue drew back and the door popped open.

Jay slipped into the room. Blackwell was asleep propped up on a few pillows, the TV going. Jay closed the door and sauntered over to the sleeping man. She quietly pulled a chair up, swung her legs up and dropped her boots on his groin.

"What the fuck!" Blackwell woke with a start looking pale and pained.

"Hi, big boy. Want to fuck?"

Blackwell pushed her feet off and covered his equipment with a hand. "Regaud, you bitch. I shoulda known you'd be crossing my path soon, like the piece of bad luck shit you are."

"Now, now, Mr. Blackwell. Is that the way a good Christian man should speak in front of a lady?"

"Lady? Shit. You're just a freak of nature."

"You're just jealous because I get more girls than you do. What are you doing here?"

Blackwell pulled himself farther up the bed and poured himself a glass of cheap red wine from a bottle beside his bed. There was no sign of Mar's gentlemen now. Lance's features were course and angry. His room a mess of take out food containers, dirty clothes and empty bottles.

"A mutual friend of ours told me you were coming down here to work. So I decided to pay you a social visit, seeing as we are old friends."

"No informant of yours is a friend of mine."

"I'm by nature a curious man. I said to myself, what would Jay Regaud be doing in a hick town like Gerald. So I do a little reading and discover that there is all sorts of legends about pirates and treasure around here. Lafitte, Aury, even Drake himself all worked out of this area. So I figure you had a lead."

"So you are poaching again, are you? I thought you'd have learned better after our last encounter."

Blackwell laughed without humour. "I'll get even, Regaud. I always get even."

Jay snorted. "You don't know your ass from a hole in the ground, Blackwell."

The man smiled. "I know that sexy little filly is related to you and that Lafitte's treasure is buried somewhere on Rouge Island. I'm figuring on getting lucky."

Jay's temper snapped. In a flash, a knife was at Blackwell's throat.

"You can search all you want for buried treasure. It's a free country. But if you touch Mar I'll cut off your balls and make you eat them."

Eyes filled with a mixture of hate and fear looked up at Jay.

"Don't threaten me."

Jay laughed softly as she pulled the knife away and backed towards the door.

"It's not a threat. It's a promise." Then she was gone.

Lance Blackwell threw his glass at the closed door and swore. Later, he would swear even more when he discovered that Atlantis Enterprises had bought the land on Rouge island right from under his nose.

Driving back to the farm Jay was in a foul mood. She was angry at Mar for being so stubborn and not listening to her warning. She was angry at Blackwell because he was the world's biggest asshole. She was angry at herself because she'd let her temper get the better of her. And she was royally pissed that the tractor still lay in pieces in the shed. It was there that she headed to work off some steam.

Mar saw the truck arrive back and Jay slam out of it and storm into the shed. She decided to leave Jay alone. There was no point in looking for trouble. There was no doubt there was bad blood between Lance Blackwell and Jay, but her reaction to the man had been way over the top. Mar considered herself a fairly good judge of character and she had found Lance Blackwell well mannered and charming. At least, he didn't seem to have secrets like Jay did. Jay was, Mar knew, living a lie.Jay worked on the tractor until the sun was almost up. Except for the wheel alignment, the tractor was in pretty good shape now. She'd sleep for a few hours and then finish the job. Bone tired and filthy, she headed back to the house, showered and was asleep almost as quickly as she laid her head on the pillow.

It was not until nearly noon that Jay yawned her way downstairs, washed and dressed, but extremely hungry. There was not the usual smell of fine cooking coming from the kitchen. Instead, Jay found a note.

Thanks for getting the tractor up and running. You must have been up half the night. I've left you to sleep in. Bubba phoned and asked if I could take the tractor down to the back quarter. We've got a crawboat stuck out there. Its winch has jammed. Bubba is to join me there later. He has to wait for the delivery truck that is to pick up the bags of crawfish. You'll find a few sandwiches in the fridge. Thanks, Mar.

Jay got a sandwich from the fridge and ate it as she headed out of the house. She didn't like the idea of Mar driving the tractor down the narrow grass buffers between the flooded fields when the wheels were so badly out of alignment. Besides, she needs to apologize for the way she'd handled things yesterday.

She swung into the jeep and headed out towards the back quarter. In the distance, she could see the tractor and Mar working at attaching a chain to the hitch in order to pull the crawboat off the mud. As she drew closer, she saw Mar swing up into the tractor seat and start edging the tractor forward. Suddenly, the tractor leaned far to the right, balanced there for a second and then toppled, taking Mar with it into the flooded field.

Jay drove the last hundred yards as fast as she could. Slamming the jeep into park, she leapt from the vehicle. The tractor was half submerged in the water and Mar was pinned below. Muddy water splashed as Mar tried to get her head to the surface and then settled into rings.

Jay waded in, grabbed a handful of hair from under the water and pulled Mar's head to the surface. She was no longer breathing. Jay dropped to her knees in the flooded field, braced Mar against her arm and stuck her finger in Mar's mouth to clean out the mud and debris. Then she sealed her mouth over Mar's, pitched her nose and blew air into Mar's compressed lungs. Once, twice, three times. Nothing. "Please, Mar."

Jay tried again struggling to control her own panic. Suddenly, Mar gave a ragged gasp, choked and threw up vomit and mud. She gasped again, coughed, choked and then started to fight in total panic.

Jay took several good blows to her head before she managed to pin Mar to her chest and cover her mouth with her other hand.

"Stop screaming and stop fighting. I've got you. I'm not going to let you drown. Calm down. You're safe."

"I...I....I can't swim," Mar sobbed. "C...Can't swim."

"Honey, the waters only a foot or so deep here. I got you. Come on now. I need you to be calm."

"I t...t...thought I was going to die."

Jay held the shaking woman close to her chest and let her cry her fear out. "It's okay now. You're safe. It was a scary moment but the worst is over."

"I....I... want out. Please g...get me out."

"I can't, Babe. Your legs are pinned under the tractor. We're going to have to wait for Bubba to get here."

"No!"

"Come on, Mar. You can do this. You're alright. Take a look around you now. See, you're propped up against me. You can't fall back in the water. Okay?"

Mar had Jay's hand in a death grip against her chest and was shaking with fear but she nodded.

"Good. You're going to be okay. I've got you and I'm not going to let go. Are you in pain?"

Mar shook her head no.

"Good. Can you wiggle your toes?"

"Y...Y...Yes."

"Wow, words again. We're making head way here."

Jay felt Mar laugh despite her terror.

"I...I was so scared. I..I t..thought I was dead."

"Anyone would have been scared in a situation like that. But you did okay, Mar. You saved your own life by fighting to stay on the surface for as long as you could. If you hadn't I wouldn't have got to you in time."

Mar clung on even tighter. "Don't move."

"I won't."

"I... I feel sick."

"You swallowed two quarters of muddy water and several raw crawfish, I think."

"Oh t...that helps."

"It's okay, you threw up most of it. I think you'll have a pretty rummy tummy tonight though."

"Cold."

Jay wrapped her arms around the small torso. "Probably a little shock. Keep talking to me, okay."

By the time Bubba got there both woman were shaking with cold even though the day was quite warm. They had also been burnt red by the sun. Mar was barely conscious in Jay's arms. It finally took the fire department with some heavy equipment to free Mar. Both woman were taken to the local clinic. Jay was declared fit after a few bloodsuckers had been burnt off and she'd had a mug of tea and a shot for infection. She was given a cream for her sunburn.

Mar's condition was considered more serious. She was treated for shock and her many cuts and bruises seen to. Like Jay, she was given a shot for infection but was also given follow up medication as well as cream for her burnt skin. It was nearing dark by the time Mar was released into Jay's care and Bubba drove them back to the farm.

Bubba waited around in the kitchen until Jay got Mar comfortably in bed.

"She'll be okay, Bubba, don't you worry."

"I shoulda been the one out there. I feel so bad."

Jay patted the big man on the back. "Things happen and they are no one's fault. What I do know is that if you hadn't come along and gotten help, we'd have been in bad shape by now. You were great. Thanks."

Bubba nodded but still looked unhappy. "You take good care of her tonight, Miss Regaud."

"I will."

Budda left without another word.

Jay, dead on her feet, gave a sigh and headed upstairs to strip out of the scrubs that the clinic had lent them and crawl into bed. She'd barely got her head on the pillow when she heard Mar moaning in the other room. On went the scrubs again as Jay hurried to find out what the problem was.

Mar was barely awake and her dreams were not pleasant that was for sure.

"Shhh, I'm here," whispered Jay.

"Don't leave me." Jay curled up beside Mar and held her close. "You're safe now. It's all over."

"Don't leave."

"I won't." Jay settled in beside Mar pulling her close into her arms. The warmth of the two women melded into one and they slept.

Jay woke early and reluctantly uncurled from around the warm, soft body beside her. Every bone in her body protested as she hobbled her way to the shower. The hot water helped and she slipped into clean clothes and headed down to the kitchen to make coffee. To her surprise, Bubba sat at the table and he didn't look happy.

"Hi Bubba. She's fine. Still sleeping peaceful..."

Jay's words choked off in surprise as Bubba's huge form towered over her.

"Been out to the site. That tractor turned over because someone's been diggin' out there on the buffer and filled the soil back in and covered it with grass. I'm figurin', I know who would gain if'in anything happened to Mar."

"What? Someone digging? Let's go. I need to see the site."

"Not until I hear you swear it weren't you. I'm wonderin' what made you head out there if'in you had nothin' to do with it." It wasn't me. You have my word, for what it's worth. Mar had left a note. The one on the kitchen table. I was worried because I hadn't done the front wheel alignment on the tractor yet."

The massive formed backed away from her a little and Jay gave a sigh of relief. Bubba was strong enough to have killed her with one blow. She didn't think him a violent man, but Jay suspected that he looked on Mar as one of his own.

"You'd better come look for yourself then."

Jay nodded.

"I'll leave a note for Mar in case she wakes while we are out."

Bubba stood with fixed concentration and watched Jay write a brief message.

"I'm not likin' this."

"Me either." They headed out together in Bubba's old truck and stopped at the churned up and muddy bank. Jay got out and looked about with a frown.

"The rescue people cut it up so bad it's hard to tell what happened here."

"Bin dug. This here loose soil goes down far too deep just from them trucks. It's bin dug right down to the pipes."

"Pipes?"

"There's some old pipes here for flooding and draining. We never took ‘em out when we put in the new plastic stuff. Them metal pipes are down well over three feet. There was no point in pullin' them out. You seein' what I mean? Iffin a truck did that it'd still be stuck here."

"You're right."

"Molly said she saw a ghost out here the other night."

"Ghost? Where?"

"Over near the rice ponds, Miss Regaud."

"That's Jay."

Bubba nodded. "I guess one of the Mexicans saw somethin' too. High tailed it out of here sayin' he weren't gonna work on haunted land."

"What do you think, Bubba?"

"I'm thinkin' it was you."

"I have no reason to be digging."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Bubba seemed to grow bigger and more menacing as he spoke. Jay looked around for a way to escape.

"I gave you my word."

"You did and that will do fer now. But I'm thinkin' I need to be keepin' an eye on you."

Jay shrugged, trying not to show her relief. "Do so. I have nothing to hide."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Jay turned and got back in the truck and Bubba followed more slowly. The ride back was made in silence. It was only when Jay swung from the cab that she spoke again.

"Can I do anything to help while Mar is recovering?"

"You just be takin' care of that little thing and don't be walkin' about the fields at night."

Budda looked straight into her eyes. He knew.

Jay nodded and Bubba left without another word.

Jay climbed the stairs deep in thought and was surprised to see Mar awake, if still in bed.

"How do you feel?"

"Sore and a bit of a queasy stomach."

"I'm not surprised. I don't imagine that many people have a tractor pin them under water and live to tell the tale." Jay came over sat on the edge of the bed and felt Mar's forehead. "Just as I suspected."

"What?"

"Still as soft and warm as last night." Jay smirked.

Mar's face instantly glowed red. "About last night...""Yes, what about last night?" Jay leaned closer, her face only inches away from Mar's.

Mar pulled back. "You are a rogue."

Jay laughed and moved to give Mar a larger comfort zone. "How would you know? I doubt very much if a rogue has ever been in your life, Miss Southern-Belle."

"I do know right from wrong, Ms. Regaud," Mar huffed. "And that doesn't mean I haven't got a streak of adventure."

"Do you now?"

"I do."

"Prove it."

"How?"

Jay leaned forward again and softly kissed Mar on the lips. She eased reluctantly away until their eyes met. Mar licked her lips and then slipped her hand around Jay's neck and pulled her close. The kiss this time was more demanding, more needy. Again it was Jay who pulled away.

"I do declare, Miss Marenette, this is a side of your personality I had no idea existed."

Mar blushed and looked away. "I'm not sure I did either. I...I... Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for being there last night."

Jay got up. Mar had gone a lot farther than she ever dreamed she would go and Jay knew she'd be chasing a lot of demons in her head as a result. "A kiss doesn't damn you to hell. Forget about it."

Mar looked up and their eyes locked again. "It wasn't the kiss. It was what I felt that will damn me. And I don't want to forget it."

Jay smiled softly. "Neither do I."

"You're bad news, Jay."

"I can be."

They left it like that. Enough lines had been crossed.

The days passed quickly now, each one bringing more changes. Seasonal crews were hired for the harvest and migrant homes once sitting empty were full. The sound of Spanish voices were more common now than the long, southern drawl and the rhythm of the field crickets and cicadas was replaced by the roar of equipment.

Jay did her best to help around the place but most of the responsibilities fell to Mar and Bubba who had the practical experience to get the job done. Jay concentrated her skills on what she knew best, which was mechanics. Her nails were soon broken and her hands stained with oil but Mar said that the farm equipment had never worked as well.

Each night, Jay went to bed early and but got up again in the late hours. She'd slip out to her truck, get out her equipment and head out to the fields. In the morning, Mar would always find her in the kitchen making coffee or sitting with a mug of it out on the porch.

It was near the end of the harvest, when one day the air pressure started to drop and the humidity rose to barely bearable. The nightly weather report cautioned that a hurricane they had been monitoring was coming off the Keys of Florida and was likely to bring them bad weather, even though it was expected to remain off shore. Everyone but Jay knew the drill. Animals were taken to high ground, levees reinforced with sand bags and windows shuttered against the coming storm.

By nightfall, the winds had got up and the first large splatters of rain were falling. Jay and Mar ate a quick meal, washed the dishes and put coffee and soup into thermoses in case they lost power for sometime. They were just finishing the task when Bubba knocked on the door and stumbled in out of the weather.

"Bubba, you should be home by now."

"Came to tell you. Mama's taken a turn for the worse. The doctor don't think she'll last the night." The big man cleared his voice and looked away while he blinked back tears.

"Oh, Bubba, I'm so sorry. Can I do anything?"

"No, not yet. Mama is upset, Mary-Lou. She'd always said she wanted to die with the preacher at her side but old Reverend Muller can't get across the bridge safely in this here storm. It don't seem right."

"No, it doesn't. Is all the family there anyway?"

"Yes'um except for young Jelani on account of he's in the army."

"Of course."

"Maybe I could help."

Bubba and Mar looked at Jay in surprise.

"I can perform a service."

"You're no minister," Bubba growled.

"No, but I'm a sea captain and I've trained for such things."

Bubba stood silent, looking at Jay suspiciously.

Jay sighed. "It would make us even."

Bubba nodded. "You'd be better than nothin', I guess."

Jay rolled her eyes. "I need to get a few things."

Mar excused herself and followed in Jay's wake looking more than upset. At the base of the stairs, she grabbed Jay and spun her around.

"What are you doing? You are about the last person on Earth who should be giving a service like this. Pearl is a God fearing woman. She's ninety-two. She doesn't need some lying..." Mar searched for a world, "rogue to impersonate a minister. Damn it, Jay. She believes."

Jay's eyes narrowed and she pulled her arm away from Mar's grasp. "Thanks for that lovely summation of my personality. I have no intention of making a mockery out of this. I mean to cancel my debt to Bubba for pulling us out from under that tractor by providing comfort and guidance to a woman facing death. Now leave me alone to get on with this."

A little while later, Bubba, Mar and Jay sat wedged on the seat of Bubba's old truck bouncing through a river of mud towards the other end of the island where a gathering of seven or eight old houses, a chapel and a small variety store formed the black community on the island. On Mar's lap was a big basket of casseroles and the thermoses of coffee and soup that she and Jay had made up earlier. Bubba filled in the silence talking about his mother.

The house they entered creaked in the wind as if it stood empty but inside the living room was crowded with Bubba's relatives. Three women sat on a green sofa, clutching bibles and softly singing hymns. In a big armchair, an old man sat looking on with interest, his toothless mouth half open. Children, their eyes white with fear, sat on laps or on the floor about the room and men looking awkward and out of place sat stiffly on kitchen chairs brought in from the back room or stood in corners trying to stay out of the way.

"Y'all know Mary-Lou Marenette. She's come to pay her respects and bring a few things for us to have."

Black faces looked up with surprise but welcome and Bubba's wife came out from the bedroom to accept and carry the basket to the kitchen with Mar in tow. That left Jay.

"This here is Jay Regaud. Y'all have seen her about. She said on account of her bein' a Navy captain, she can offer Mama a few words of comfort on her way. I figure I'll take her to see Mama and Aunt Bella and see what they have to say."

The others nodded, too surprised by the chain of events to respond.

Bubba turned. "You'd better come this way then and meet Mama and Aunt Bella."

In the small bedroom a shrunken, little woman with white, thinning hair lay dozing in the bed. By her side, on a ladder chair, sat an old woman, red eyed and bowed, reading a bible that lay on her ample lap. Her cane was held at her side with an old, wrinkled hand. Jay guessed this must be Pearl's sister.

"Aunt Bella? I stopped by the farm to let Miss Marenette know Mama was feeling poorly. She's here now and brought the family some food to tide us over through the storm."

"That was good of her. She's better than most is Mary-Lou Marenette." The old lady's eyes moved to Jay.

Bubba shifted from foot to foot. "This here is Jay Regaud. She'd be a distant relative of Miss Marenette. I was sayin' how Mama wanted a minister here and seems Miss Regaud is a Navy captain and can do that sort of thing. That okay with you, Aunt Bella?"

The old woman looked back at Jay again. "Don't seem right, Reverend Muller not being here, but I guess she'll do fine if'in she know what to say."

"I do."

The door behind Jay opened and the old woman's eyes shifted.

"Miss Marenette, it was good of you to come out in this here storm to say good bye to Pearl. She's sleepin now but she'll wake soon, I'm thinking. Least ways, she has been doing so fur most of the afternoon."

"Pearl is one special lady. I've known her and her family all my life. I needed to come," responded Mar, as she looked around the door.

The old eyes moved back to Jay. "I figure you'd better get started. Miss Marenette, could you leave the door open there so

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 538