Bayou Sunset (Agents of HIS #4)

Chapter Two

DAISY MAE ROBICHOUX sprayed down the deck of Seas the Day , her charter boat, cursing the passengers she'd taken out earlier in the day. Why did people who got seasick allow others to push them into boating? Oh, that's right. They didn't have to clean up the vomit. She did. Or her deckhands would if they hadn't bailed.

At least the three men had a great time bringing in a nice catch, which they donated to the neighboring homeless shelter. She always recommended that option when passengers didn’t want to take their catch, making them feel good about their efforts. It wasn't like they were deep-sea fishing, catching sharks. It was out in the bayou but deep enough to catch larger fish.

She shook her head at the group this morning. They hadn't had a drop to drink, but they'd been as cheerful as those who had tied one on, and she'd loved that. Until the one got sick….

“ Bonjour , Deyzee Mè ,” Jean-Paul said, startling her as he walked down the dock.

“Look like a bien amusant ,” Pierre, his twin, said, laughing.

Her brothers never understood her deep attachment to the family's collection of charter boats. After their parents passed away, she and her brothers each inherited one of the three boats. JP and Pierre had sold theirs and purchased a bar. At least they had kept their father's love of John Wayne in their memories by calling the bar Dukes.

On the other hand, she didn't care if she was the only female captain at the pier. She loved the boat, the water, and even the sick people. The joy and happiness that came over someone's face when they caught a fish, especially for the first time, made this part of the job worth it. Besides, she would have to spray off the deck anyway.

Her obnoxious but loving brothers didn't ask for permission to board. They jumped on the boat, causing it to rock.

“Hey, Sisit ,” Pierre said. “We needs a favor.”

Of course, they did. “ Bonjour , JP. Bonjour , Pierre. Mais non , I appreciate the help ya offered in cleaning da bateau ,” she wisecracked.

Pierre shook his head. “Ya be the one that chose to keep this stinky mess.”

JP, not to be left out, added, “ Oui , ya could've joined us at Duke's. Mais , where be ya deckhands?”

The young girl she hired fell ill due to the smell of vomit. The other deckhand had called out sick. She questioned whether it was due to a hangover rather than actual suffering. He was young, and it had been a weekend trip. It wasn't the first time, but it might be the last. She would wait to see how elaborately he concocted his story.

“Whatcha want?” she asked without stopping her work. She had a deck to clean before darkness settled, making it difficult to see. She prided herself on a pristine boat—at least, as good as a charter boat could be with the wear and tear of nature's elements.

JP crossed his arms over his chest, his legs spread to withstand the rocking their boarding had caused. “We needs a favor.”

She stopped spraying the deck and wiped the sweat off her forehead with a rag from her back pocket. Good grief, it had been a scorcher for May. This summer's weather didn't bode well for the South: heat, heat, and more heat. At least it wasn’t a hurricane. She didn't want to deal with that turmoil all over again.

Turning, she looked at each brother. They were handsome enough with their sandy blond hair, a bit too long but not sufficient to be shaggy. Yeah, it looked good on them. They had taken after their papa. God rest his soul.

Curiosity got the better of her. “What be dis favor?”

“Ya must agree first,” Pierre said.

She closed her eyes in exasperation as she shook her head. Why did they have to be so obtuse? Opening her eyes, she looked at each of them, stopping on Pierre, the oldest by six minutes. “Ya know me better than dat. Now, spill it. I no have time for dicking around.”

“Language, Sisit ,” JP said, laughing. “Ya talk like a drunken sailor.”

“Fuck you,” she said, not caring what they said about her. They were about the only ones who drew out this type of language. “Now, spill it,” she repeated, “I got no time for stupidity.”

“ Oui ,” Pierre said, “We”—he gestured between him and JP—”need ya to take us on a short trip. Local like.”

She had previously made trips for men looking to escape it all but for her lazy-assed brothers. They hated going on the water for longer than the boat ride home since the water taxi was faster than driving. It also prevented them from getting another DUI on the roads.

She had her doubts about this trip. “What be we doing? Fishing or sightseeing?” She offered both, although the sights were few and far between. There was little in Bayou Junction, Louisiana: alligators, small islands, and abundant fish.

Returning to her brothers, maybe they were trying to butter someone up to buy into the bar or perhaps some new scheme. She knew they didn't have financial problems and wouldn't want another partner, but who knew with her brothers? Get-rich schemes, though, were the name of their game.

“Um,” Pierre said, then began to fidget back and forth on his feet, looking down as he did.

What the hell? She'd never seen her brother at a loss for words. Now, her curiosity was at full tilt.

“Sightseeing,” JP blurted out. “Of a sort,” he mumbled at the end, but she caught it.

This sounded fishier than the smell of her passengers' last catch. “I got no time for dis,” she said and turned. “Ya know my rates for a trip.” She turned the hose back on, spraying another portion of her deck, waiting for their subsequent plea.

Out of her peripheral vision, she caught Pierre walking closer. She purposefully turned, with the sprayer still flowing, barely splashing him.

He jumped back and held up his hands. “ ?a va, ?a va .”

Sighing, she turned off the sprayer and gave her brothers her full attention. “What da hell be going on? I never see ya two nervous ’cept when Papa caught ya and Steve drinking his Jack.”

Ah, hell. Just the mention of Steve Smith had her insides in turmoil. She had always had a crush on him, but she was his best friend's little sister. She was…. What had he called her that final night? Oh yeah, “Off limits.”

She disagreed but never said anything to the contrary after he shut her down. But Steve had made his choice and got the hell out of Bayou Junction, just like he'd always said he would. Lucky bastard.

Of course, she could take her boat anywhere and start a new business. She kept the business name of Bayou Charters, which her parents had founded, just in case she bought back the other boats. That wish had not come true, but she promised herself there was always a chance to do more.

Again, she needed to catch up on what her brothers were saying. She had to stop that, but it was her bad habit for the mind to run off in another direction and lose focus when bored. And her brothers, on this occasion, bored her. She did love them, though, as only a sister could.

JP and Pierre looked at each other, and she narrowed her eyes. Something was definitely fishy with them. “Dis be another of ya get-rich schemes? A treasure map, maybe?”

They gazed at her with the same innocent looks they had perfected as teenagers while she struggled to control her emotions. Her inability to conceal her feelings often got her in trouble.

“ Non , what make ya think dat?” JP asked.

“Well, ya be cagey as fuck right now.” Again, they brought out her terrible language. She had to watch that. Her life around fishermen had taught her more than she wished to know. Word-wise, that was.

“ Mon Dieu! ” Pierre said. “We wants ta go ta a specific place mais needs ya secrecy.”

Whatever, she decided. She always let her brothers win in the end. “What place?”

“ Bien ,” JP said, “it be one of da islands. We be on land for a while, and den we needs ya to bring us home. Mais , keep dis quiet. We no want anyone ta know our plans.”

Well, at least they were getting somewhere. Still….

“Ya know my rates. I charge by da hour.”

“ Merci ,” Pierre said with a broad smile on his face.

“By da way,” she stopped them from leaving, “what help will ya need from me?” Should she prepare meals? Rods?

“Ta carry da treasure,” JP boasted.

“ Merde ,” Pierre said.

“Well, she will see da map when wes open it to find da right spot,” JP whined.

“A treasure map,” another masculine voice said. “ Mais oui! How da ya two fall for dat nonsense?” Mario Xenos asked.

Daisy Mae clenched her jaw. She despised her rival charter boat owner. He'd underhandedly stolen clients from her before. Well, she thought, he could take these two boneheads. They knew the maps for Jean Lafitte's—and she'd bet her last dollar that's whose map they believed it had belonged to—were fakes.

“Dis be none of ya business, Mario,” Pierre stated.

Mario raised an eyebrow in response before the twins turned and hurried away.

Her rival looked at her dirty deck and laughed. “Enjoy, chère ,” Mario said as he walked away.

Daisy Mae wanted to spray him but wouldn't be that childish with another boat owner. She despised Mario. Let him steal her brothers' trip away from her. This time, she didn't care.

Treasure map, indeed.