Chapter 6: Cajun Moonshine

Chase knew that if he had any more of the moonshine Bridgette was pouring that he'd never be able to drive. In fact, he was sure he shouldn't have been driving after the first shot. As Bridgette hummed a tune to a song he knew he'd heard, but couldn't place he tried to listen beyond her sweet voice. What had happened outside? He knew that the alcohol must've been making him paranoid. With what he'd seen so far, it was likely that Evan and Lenora were stripped of clothes and doing exactly what Lenora had been trying to kill him for doing. This place is messed up.

Bridgette cleared her throat and gave Chase a glance as if to say, so?

“Oh, sorry. Bellafont. It’s prime real estate I aim to buy.” He didn’t even know why he said it that way, prime real estate, and now understood the “city” comment she’d made seconds before. His statement must have sounded so arrogant like he was looking for a place to flip for cash rather than settle into a home.

She laughed and took another drink. She poured more into each of their glasses. “Prime real estate? Well, you might want to change your mind, Chère. You know that haints up in that place?

He couldn’t help but laugh. That was the exact thing Rachel had said before he left. “Well, I don’t believe in ghosts, goblins, and witches. For that matter, I don’t even believe in trolls under the bridge.”

“There are ghosts all around Arcadia and there ain’t been goblins ‘round these parts in about two hundred years.” She may have been joking, but something about her demeanor said otherwise.

Nervously, Chase laughed as he finished his drink. He sat his glass down, and right away she filled it halfway. “Stop trying to scare me with all that supernatural bullshit. I grew up in ‘Nawlins and I seen folks scare tourists with all that voodoo mumbo-jumbo.”

“Believe what you want to believe Chère. That don’t make it any less true. If I were you, I would take my money elsewhere and find a plot of land that ain’t in Arcadia.” She took down the rest of her glass. “Chère, go make sure my sister didn’t scare old Evan too much while I sautee some shrimp for you.”

“So, you’re not going to give me the real reason why I shouldn’t buy that place?”

She leaned over the bar, pressing her chest against his hand as it gripped his glass. “Now I’m sure you, me, and that nice cock of yours can think of something better to talk about. Now, do you want white garlic, or are you man enough for the Cajun hot sauce?”

"I've had enough hot for today. Garlic is good."

"Keeps the vampires away, don't it Chère?" Bridgette laughed and stepped from the counter.

The hypnotic sway of her hips made Chase adjust himself as she took her time walking into the kitchen. He finished his drink, feeling its effects on his empty stomach. Carefully, he sat the glass down and stepped off the stool. His first step was an awkward stumble and he grabbed the bar for balance. “You got me drunk,” he shouted and then walked to the front door.

“Good, leave your keys on the bar,” she yelled back from the kitchen. “Maybe you’ll whip that cock out again.”

He stopped and thought about it. Even in a drunken stupor, he knew he didn’t want to be driving on these roads at night in this condition. It’d be better to lay out on a bench out front than out there alone. He tossed his keys on the closest table and listened to them slide off and hit the floor as he walked out the front door.

Bridgette stepped out of the kitchen as the door closed behind Chase. She waited to hear his footsteps walk the length of the front porch. Then she reached into her pocket and withdrew a phone. She tapped the second number on her favorite’s list. Lenora being the first.

“Hello?” a man’s voice said after two rings.

“There’s a man here asking about your place,” Bridgette said matter-of-factly, knowing the person on the other side knew what she was talking about.

“Tall, and blonde, driving a fancy car?”

“Figured you would already know,” Bridgette replied as she grabbed a cigarette from under the bar and a small box of matches near the register. She lit the cigarette as she listened.

“He came by Bellafont around sunset. He hung out for a while as if he was waiting for someone.”

“Says he’s from ’Nawlins," Bridgette added, "and is blessed with a nice cock.”

“What else did he say?” the man asked, ignoring her comment.

“Says he wants to buy your place. Says its prime real estate.”

“What did you tell him?”

“It was haunted.”

“And?”

“Well, he said what every city boy has said to me. You know they don’t believe in anything real outside of money.”

“But, we know better, don’t we Bridgette?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Okay, then. Do you think he’ll be a problem?”

“No, he’s too city for that. Will probably scare off easy enough."

Okay, then. I know you’re itchin’. So, go ahead and tell me about this cock.”

Bridgette laughed “Took you long enough to ask. It’s nice, but dick is dick, Chère. Just something to take the time away.” She walked across the bar and scooped up the Chase's car keys off the dusty floor. “How you want me to handle him?”

“Where is he?”

“He’s outside chasing after Lenora. She got all riled up again over Evan’s cheating ass.”

“In that case, it would be rude of us not to introduce him to your neighbors.” The voice paused for some time as Bridgette walked the keys to the back of the kitchen and hung them up on a random nail sticking out of the wall. “And Bridgette, please make sure they give him a warm welcome,” the man replied before the line went silent and he was gone.

Bridgette laif the phone on the kitchen counter. She glanced at the keys wondering if she should take them off the hook. She decided that it didn't matter, She turned the knob on the stove and listened for a click, then played with the knob a few seconds before the gas lit the sparks. She took another cigarette after the first was gone and sucked in gently as the flame lit the other end. With a long draw of air she filled her lungs and let out a slow and steady flow of smoke.

“A waste of a good cock,” she said aloud before taking another drag.

She turned and looked over the kitchen counter. Knives. A gun in the drawer. a variety of pokers. But, she walked over and took a beer bottle, gulped down three swigs until it was empty and made her decision. The gators hate dead meat. All she needed to do is knock him out.