Page 79 of Xavier

Once they arrived at the bar and grill, Xavier parked his truck, and they rushed inside amid a torrent of pelting rain and gale-force winds.

Danny worked the tables, serving food and beer to those intrepid enough to stay behind and brave the hurricane.

Mace LaFayette had a group of his Bayou Reapers gathered around a table, sharing information about road conditions.

Remy and members of his team joined the Reapers.

Other Bayou Mambaloa townspeople were scattered around the bar and grill, seeking a little solace in the storm before going back out to help.

Lissette recognized several people who’d slammed doors in her face.

As she passed by a table with two men seated, she recognized Grady Martin and Mr. Romig, two of the people she’d gone out into the bayou to make her grandmother’s house calls and to warn them of the incoming hurricane.

She leaned into Xavier, hoping the two men wouldn’t make a scene and draw attention to her. In the past, she’d have used that attention to throw it back in the faces of those who’d talked down to her. After all that had happened and after losing her grandmother, she didn’t have it in her to endure the anger and abuse.

Mr. Romig’s hand shot out and captured her arm. “Ms. Gautier.”

The hand on her arm clung tightly. She’d have to work hard to remove it, possibly making a scene. She braced herself and turned to the man with his walker placed behind his seat.

“Yes, Mr. Romig?” she asked.

“Just wanted to say thank you for warning me about the hurricane and for delivering the food your grandmother sent.” Mr. Romig pointed a finger at her. “You tell your grandmother I appreciated the gumbo. She makes it just the way I like it. I hope her ankle gets better soon. In the meantime, I promise not to bite your head off if you come to my place again. It was a good thing you did. My daughter gave me the what-for and made me promise to do right by you. Anyway, thank you for warning me. My friend Grady came by today to help me get out.”

Grady Martin cleared his throat. “About yesterday, I need to thank you, as well,” he said, his face turning a ruddy red. “I had no right to be so disagreeable with you. If not for you, I wouldn’t have known how bad it was gonna get. The two of us are leaving in a few minutes to head to Baton Rouge to stay with my other daughter. Stacey and her kids are already there. You need to get out while you can.”

Lissette nodded and mumbled, “You’re welcome,” then moved on, shocked by the turnaround in two of the crankiest people she’d visited the day before.

When Beau and Landry arrived, the Brotherhood Protectors and the Bayou Reapers gathered around a table where someone had laid out a map of the area.

They discussed where water covered the roads, where vehicles had stalled in the exodus, clogging routes into and out of town.

As Xavier moved closer to the group, Lissette hung back, worried about her grandmother.

Anton and Jacques were on their way back to the marina, reporting that everyone had evacuated except a couple of diehards who refused to leave.

Lissette walked to the bathroom, relieved herself and washed her hands. She was about to leave the room when her cell phone chirped. Her heart raced as she dug it out of her pocket, praying it was her grandmother, telling her she was fine and on her way home.

The caller ID read UNKNOWN.

Lissette answered anyway. “This is Lissette.”

“Ms. Gautier,” a man’s voice said into her ear. “Étienne Benoit.”

Her hand tightened on the phone. “Where is my grandmother?”

“She’s with me, and we’re taking very good care of her,” he said in a congenial tone. “I’d like to make a proposal.”

“Let my grandmother go,” Lissette said. “She’s done nothing to hurt you.”

“No, she has not. I have no plan to hurt her.”

“You already have by dragging her from her home.”

“Now, I did not condone dragging, and I’ve spoken with my employees about roughing up our guest. But, as I was saying, I would like to make a generous proposal.”

Lissette snorted. “Knock yourself out.”

“I propose to return all the reliquaries back to their designated family tombs—intact and none the worse for wear.”