Page 13 of The Unseen

N ICOLE GOT A CALL FROM L UCAS ON T UESDAY MORNING.

H E TOLD her how much he had enjoyed their evening at the Villard estate and said he had meant to call sooner.

She had wondered if she had misread the connection, but the minute she heard that deep voice, that faint, sexy Cajun accent, she wanted to see him again.

“We finally had the official opening of the new youth center, so that’s one problem out of the way.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I know your schedule is as busy as mine, but I was wondering if maybe you could get away for a few hours this afternoon.”

“I’m at the gallery, but I’m just about finished.”

“You’re in Baton Rouge?”

“Yes.”

“That makes things easier. I need to take a ride down to Thibodaux. Any chance you could go with me?”

The town was a little over an hour away from the city. “Does the trip include lunch?”

“Absolutely. Homemade Cajun cooking. I need to talk to my grandmother. I promise you, Grandmere is not your typical older woman. I think you’ll like her.”

Nicole wondered if he’d taken a lot of different women to meet his grandmother, or if she was somehow special. “I’d love to meet her.”

“How much time do you need?”

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Good. I’m on my way.”

They headed south on I-10 East, down to Highway 61, wound up in Thibodaux, and eventually pulled into a neighborhood of older wood-framed houses within walking distance to a number of small businesses and restaurants.

Lucas pulled the Jeep to a halt in front of a wood-framed white house on St. Mary Street.

“Grandmere has lived here most of her life,” Lucas said. “I tried to get her to move to Baton Rouge, but there was no way that was going to happen.”

“She sounds like an independent woman.”

“Oh, she definitely is that. She’s my grandmother on my mother’s side. Her married name was Brumaire, but she divorced him when he made the mistake of cheating, and she went back to her maiden name, which was Lafon.”

Nicole scoffed. “Well, then, good for her.”

Lucas helped Nicole out of the Jeep, and they walked up an immaculate redbrick path to a covered front porch. The yard was perfect, the house freshly painted. Pink geraniums spilled out of flower boxes on both sides of the door.

“You take good care of her,” Nicole said, guessing Lucas was the one responsible for the house being so well kept.

“She’s all the family I have left.” He knocked on the door, and a few seconds later, a tiny silver-haired woman with intelligent brown eyes and a warm, welcoming smile pulled it open.

Lucas leaned down and hugged her, then stepped back to make introductions. “Grandmere, I’d like you to meet my friend Nicole Belmond. Nicole, this is my grandmother Gabrielle Lafon.”

“It is just Gabby,” the older woman said, still smiling.

She looked to be in her early seventies and was robust, her cheeks glowing with color.

She spoke with an accent much more pronounced than Lucas’s.

She glanced between the two of them. “Or you may call me Grandmere, as Lucas and his friends do.”

Nicole’s heart warmed. “It’s wonderful to meet you … Grandmere,” she said.

The older woman seemed pleased as she led the way through a carpeted living room that merged into a dining room, with built-in leaded-glass bookcases.

Though the sofa and chairs were relatively new, the house held a wealth of antiques Nicole recognized as French: an inlaid rosewood buffet against the wall, beneath a gilded mirror; a pair of rosewood end tables.

What were clearly family heirlooms—old framed photos, cut crystal vases, and crocheted doilies—added warmth and charm.

They continued into a modern kitchen, done in soft yellow tones, where the aromas of onions, bell peppers, tomatoes, and celery filled the air.

“Shrimp gumbo,” Lucas pronounced, turning toward her. “The best you’ve ever tasted.” He sniffed. “I smell boudin in the Crock-Pot.”

“Of course,” Grandmere said. “We will have coffee and beignets for dessert.”

Boudin was a sausage-and-rice dish, Nicole knew. She had been raised in Louisiana. She loved spicy food.

They ate in the kitchen around a beautiful, old claw-foot oak table. The food was as good as Lucas had promised, and afterward, they retired to the living room for rich, dark coffee and beignets, the deep-fried dough with powdered sugar for which Louisiana was famous.

When they finished, Grandmere set her gold-rimmed porcelain cup and saucer down on the coffee table. She arched a silver eyebrow at Lucas. “Now it is time to tell me why you have come all this way.”

“It isn’t that far,” Lucas countered. “Only a little over an hour.” He smiled. “And we were hungry.”

Grandmere laughed. “Well, now you are both stuffed full. I’m guessing you have a problem you are hoping I can help you fix.”

Lucas flicked a glance at Nicole, who had no idea what the two of them were talking about.

“There’s a house in Denham Springs,” he began. “The owner’s having problems. She hears voices, says it sounds like men talking outside, but no one is there. She hears noises. As she described them, they sound like gunfire. Apparitions in bloody clothes appear at the foot of her bed.”

“You’ve looked into it?”

“Yes. I suspected they were soldiers who had died in the war, so I did a little digging. In May of 1862, Union troops took Baton Rouge, and the Confederates fled. But the South regrouped and returned that August. The Union lost three hundred eighty-three men, while the Confederates lost even more, a total of four hundred fifty-six. As I suspected, there was fighting near Denham Springs, along the Amite River, which runs behind Darla’s house. ”

“Darla is the woman having the problems?” Grandmere asked.

He nodded. “Darla Robinson.”

“You couldn’t help her?”

“It isn’t my kind of problem.”

Nicole sat up on the sofa. “All right. I’ve been quiet long enough. Are you saying this woman in Denham Springs has ghosts in her house?”

“I can’t be sure,” Lucas said. “I’m hoping Grandmere will look into it. She has a certain … gift.”

“What about you?” Nicole asked, thinking of what Sean had told her.

“My talent’s not the same.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“Let’s just say, there are things in this world none of us really understand.” He turned back to his grandmother. “Will you help?”

“You know I will.”

“I’ll set it up for tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up—”

“The house is in Denham Springs?” Grandmere asked.

“That’s right.”

“Bud can drive me. Let me know what time, and we will meet you there.”

“So you and Bud are still… ?”

“Don’t give me that look. I’m old, but I’m not dead yet.”

Lucas flashed one of his rare, devastating grins and rose from his place next to Nicole on the sofa. When he extended his hand, she took it, and he helped her to her feet.

“It was really nice to meet you,” Nicole said to Grandmere, still stunned by the strange discussion. “Thank you for the delicious meal.”

“It was my pleasure. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Nicole said nothing. She had no idea where her relationship with Lucas was going or if this was the last time she would see him. The thought gave her a pang.

They were halfway back to Baton Rouge when she broke the uneasy silence in the car. “Did you take me there to see my reaction when I found out you and your grandmother could … What do you call it? Communicate with ghosts?”

“I can’t communicate with ghosts.”

“But your grandmother can.”

“That’s right. My abilities run in a slightly different direction.”

She thought again of what Sean had said. “Like what, exactly?”

He flicked her a sideways glance. “Occasionally I’m asked to deal with demons.”

Nicole fell silent. Lucas passed a slow-moving vehicle, giving her a chance to think, but it didn’t do any good. “I have no idea what to say to that.”

His eyes met hers across the console. “Say you won’t let what I do, what my family is able to do, interfere with what is happening between us.”

She forced herself to ignore his handsome profile and the big, strong hands controlling the car with such ease. His knuckles were large and scarred. She knew he’d been fighting since he was a kid.

“If you have those kinds of abilities, why did you leave the priesthood?”

His hands tightened on the wheel. “What I do has more to do with the things I learned while I was a priest than it does with my abilities, though that seems to heighten the results.”

“All right, then why did you leave?”

They reached Baton Rouge, headed for Perkins Rowe, and Lucas turned into the parking lot of the Anne Winston Gallery, where Nicole had left her car.

Lucas parked the Jeep and turned off the engine.

“Simply put, I fell in love. I was young and stupid. I knew a lot about sex, but nothing about relationships. I refused to break my vows and sleep with her, so I left the Church. Unfortunately, once the thrill of having an affair with a priest was gone, so was Marie.”

When he glanced at her, she could feel a little of his pain. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. Clearly, Marie was the wrong woman for me. I’m lucky I escaped with only a bruised ego.”

“You couldn’t go back?”

“By then, I’d realized the Church was no longer where I belonged. I’d have to find redemption somewhere else.”

“The work you do with the boys is extremely important.”

He just nodded. “I know. What I do there feels right somehow.”

Nicole thought of Marie, the woman Lucas had loved. What kind of person would play such a destructive game? But she knew the answer. The few men she had dated had little regard for the brokenhearted women they left in their wake. This was the same situation in reverse.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said.

“I don’t enter into affairs lightly, Nicole.”

She arched an auburn eyebrow. “No sex since Marie?”

Lucas just smiled. “I never kiss and tell. I might have been a priest, but I’m not a saint. I have needs, just like any other man. Discovering how human I was is one of the reasons I left the Church.”

Nicole had no doubt Lucas Devereaux was all man. The thought sent a sliver of heat into her core.

“How does it work? Being a former priest, isn’t having sex before marriage condemned by the Church?”

“We’re all sinners, Nicole. I try to stay true to myself and just let God guide me. That’s the best I can do.”

Nicole made no reply. She was drawn to the inner peace Lucas clearly enjoyed, as well as his quiet strength. He was watching her, she realized, his eyes on her face.

“I want to see you again, Nicole.”

Her heart was racing. She was wildly attracted to him. She wanted to spend time with him. She wanted a lot more than that. But there was Sean to consider, and her responsibilities as his guardian, the closest thing he had to a mother. And there was her track record of relationship failures.

“I have to think about Sean,” she said, giving herself a way out.

“I know, and your concern for your brother is one of the things I admire about you. That, and your incredible artistic talent. I know Sean has to be your first priority. I wouldn’t do anything to change that.”

The conversation was making her nervous. She didn’t have time for dating. She didn’t have room for a man in her life. Around the place he had parked, cars were driving in and out of the lot. Nicole had work to do when she got home, and so did Lucas, but neither of them made a move to leave.

“I want to go with you and your grandmother to Darla’s house,” she said, changing the subject.

For the first time, Lucas looked uncertain.

“You are who you are, Lucas. If we’re going to see each other, that’s the person I want to know.”

She caught his faint sigh as he cracked open his door and stepped out of the Jeep. Nicole was out of the vehicle by the time he reached her door.

“All right, you can go,” he said. “I’ll set it up and call you with the details.”

“Okay.”

“You need to understand, we could go out there and wait for hours and nothing will happen.” His mouth edged into the faintest of smiles. “Or it could turn out to be a very interesting evening.”

She wanted to say that she would be with him, so either way it was going to be an interesting evening. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.