Sandra Hill - [Jinx 03] by Wild Jinx Page A

best not to laugh.
    “Not anymore, honey.” Lance pulled Brenda into his arms, giving her a big wet kiss. When he was done, Brenda looked a little dazed.
    Tante Lulu called everyone to the tables. “Come ’n eat, ever’one.”
    They all dished up gumbo, Lazy Bread, sliced tomatoes warm from the garden, red beans and rice, corn on the cob, and a bushel of crawfish set by itself on a plastic cloth-covered table. On another table, she had arranged dishes, cutlery, napkins, glasses, a pitcher of iced sweet tea, and two Peachy Praline Cobbler cakes. There was also a cooler filled with ice and bottles of Dixie beer. An everyday Cajun feast.
    “Everything looks wonderful,” Ronnie observed. “Should I wake up Jake?”
    “Nah, let him and the little one sleep. Food will keep.”
    Jake Jensen, Ronnie’s four-times ex-husband, was asleep on a nearby hammock with their three-year-old daughter Julie Ann sprawled over his chest. Jake was a professional poker player, taking a break from the circuit for a few weeks. Ronnie kept glancing his way, her eyes filled with love for the two of them. If Tante Lulu had her way, with a little help from St. Jude, Ronnie and Jake would be marrying again.
    “You didn’t have to do this, Tante Lulu,” Ronnie said, even as she piled her plate with the delicious food. “Just because you’re an investor in the Pirate Project doesn’t mean you have to open your home to us rowdy folks.”
    “Feedin’ my family and friends is a joy, dearie. Food, she is an important part of Cajun life. And I have plenty experience with rowdy folks, believe you me.”
    “Ain’t that the truth?” He sneaked a peach off her cake and popped it into his mouth.
    She smacked his hand away.
    A companionable silence followed then as people dug in . . . until Tante Lulu made an offhand remark. “That newspaper story . . . it was written by Celine Arseneaux, weren’t it? I know her paw-paw, James Arseneaux. Her maw-maw died years ago.”
    “Yeah,” he said hesitantly, not sure what direction his aunt was headed, but she had that wily gleam in her eyes which set up the red alert hairs on the back of his neck.
    “She’s a good Cajun girl, ain’t she?”
    John choked on his beer. “Part-Cajun, I think. She has blue eyes.”
    His brothers and Charmaine burst out laughing.
    “What’s up?” Famosa wanted to know.
    “Yeah, share the joke,” Caleb added.
    “No, no, no,” he said, but it was too late.
    Tante Lulu grinned. “Me, I think I smell thunder.”

Chapter 4
Did anyone hear thunder? . . .
    Tante Lulu gaped at her rascal nephew whose face was flushed with pure panic.
    “What’s goin’ on? I was jist teasin’,” she whispered to Charmaine.
    “Tee-John
is
a bit flustered. I wonder why,” Charmaine whispered back.
    “I heard that,” Tee-John said. “Don’t get any ideas about me and Celine Arseneaux, either one of you. Celine hates my guts.”
    “How do you feel about
her
guts?” Luc asked. He had come up behind Tee-John without his noticing.
    Tee-John flashed him a look of disgust.
    “Mebbe St. Jude sent you and Celine ta that hanky-panky club t’gether fer a purpose. Mebbe she jist needs a thunderbolt ta jump-start her heart.”
    “St. Jude and a sex club? I don’t think so,” Tee-John scoffed.
    “Stranger things have happened,” Luc pointed out. “The ol’ guy got me with a love potion Sylvie concocted in her lab.”
    “I got feng shued.” Remy winked at Tee-John, who still wore a frowny face.
    “Val got kidnapped and dropped in my lap.” You could tell how pleased René was to tell them about that.
    “I’ve got you all beat. I had to become a born-again virgin before I landed Rusty.” Charmaine’s announcement was met with stone-cold silence.
    The Yankee gang was staring at them all, open-mouthed. That was Yankees for you. No sense of humor.
    “Listen to me, Tante Lulu. I want nothin’ to do with Celine Arseneaux. Not now. Not ever. Did you hear me?”
    “Holy crawfish!