Meeting of the Minds

Meeting of the Minds
Swell nodded off as soon as she got into the back seat of the vehicle. It had been a brutal and exhausting day and frankly, she didn’t have much else to say.
“Yo, wake up.” One of Antoine’s men gently shook Swell. “We’re here.”
She got out of the car without a word and walked up the front stairs. Her walk turned into a strut, with hips jutting outward and her head calm and steady as if she were the boss. And to many, she was.
Sara Ann was sitting on the piano that greeted guests as they stepped into the opulent home. Swell took a moment to breathe in the luxury she’d spent so much time putting aside in her quest for fortune. Obviously her sister and Antoine preferred to stash their cash in a more conspicuous manner.
“Swell,” Sara Ann wore a pink feathered boa over her shoulders, and a tight black gown. No doubt it was a fetish of Antoine’s.
“Bitch,” Swell replied. “Now that we got the pleasantries out the way, where my boys at?”
“Well Junior is on his way. Cutter… he got away. That won’t last long. We got plenty of people out looking for him.”
“Where’s Evan?”
Sara Ann shrugged. “Tonight’s the night sis. You went too far killing the sheriff. He was the only person around here who still liked the status quo.”
“Bitch, fuck the status quo.” Swell’s voice cracked. “Look, you can have whatever you want, just tell me where my baby boy is. Please.”
The deep baritone of Antoine Gastineau came from her right. “Swell.” He emerged from the dining room with a tumbler full of whiskey. He was dressed in a black and gold silk smoking jacket with matching pants and slippers. His usually benign face was stiff and serious.
“Only my Momma and Daddy called me that.” Swell spit on the ground as if marking her territory.
“Swell, we have to talk,” his deep voice resonated throughout the high ceilinged room. He gestured to his men. One of them cut the straps off of Swell’s wrists. She rubbed them as Antoine sat the glass down on the table.
“Where is my son you son of a bitch?”
“He’s dead.” The two words came out matter of fact with no intention to be soothing.
Swell didn’t react at first. She waited for the punchline. She waited for him to finish the words. Something like, He’s dead to us, we don’t care about him no more. or He’s dead and gone left Arcadia to chase tail in New Orleans. But those words never came. And as the quiet continued and the lightest wind brushing across the pained glass windows could be heard, Swell allowed her head to drop. She knew it to be true. That’s when the rage exploded within her. Her heart pumped so ferocious that the pain rupture into her bones and joints.
Swell dropped to a knee curiously looking like she was about to pray. But prayer didn’t come out. Rather it was a “Motherfucker,” and she darted up and toward Antoine. He wasn’t as quick as her lithe movements. Antoine covered his face before she got to him.
But her strikes never came. Two of his men were on Swell and pulled her back just before moment of impact.
“How?” she snapped. Her arms flailed in rage. Her legs kicked with a foot making contact with one of Antoine’s henchman who reeled back holding his chin.
“The Theroit sisters.” He replied solemnly. “A witness says Lenora stabbed your son to death after he and Bridgette had… relations.”
“Where are they? I deserve the confrontation. You know I deserve that.”
Antoine raised his hand and the men released her. “We have them. And you can punish them as you see fit. But first…”
“Ain’t no, ‘but first,’ Antoine.” Everyone in the room stepped back not sure if she’d lunge out again, or spray a litany of verbal abuse. Both could be just as damaging in the right setting. “You want me out of business, fine. You can have it all; my clients, contacts, and weapons cache. You name it. I keep my home, land, private collection of guns and all, and I do mean all my damn money. Just give me my boys back and a nice private place to deal with them two fucking sisters.”
“Deal, Swell,” he said, holding out his hand.
Swell turned toward the piano and looked up at her sister. “You and me square?” Her legs gave way and she dropped to the gold and black tiled floor as the first teardrop seared the corner of her eyes.
The memories came quick. Swell thought of Evan taking his first steps. His first ass whoopin’ at the hands of his older brother. She saw him score in his first pee wee football game. And watched him graduate 8th grade. By the time she reached his high school graduation she was bawling her eyes out as Antoine wrapped his arms around his sister in law.

Willow yawned as they entered a clearing. “We there yet?”
A lone ramshackle building stood surrounded by high grass and low hanging trees. “Look,” Cutter said, pointing out the trail of divots pushed into the grass and mud. “They ain’t been here for a few hours. That’s the place up there. Aint much but it hides a lot.
“Hope there’s a shower,” Bridgette stood up from a crouched position and didn’t hesitate to walk forward. Her eyes stayed on Cutter and Willow. She had trust in neither.
“In this dump?” Willow followed slowly.
Cutter said nothing as they ca,e up on the house. Along the side of a small porch big enough for two to stand on he found a fist-sized stone. From under it there was a control pad and he covered the digits with his hands as he punched in the six-digit code. The worn door of the old structure sprang open and swung wide.
“Welcome to Swell’s lair.”
He led the way and the women followed. Once the doors closed, a low rumble sounded from beneath their feet.
“What the hell?” Willow said as the makeshift elevator rumbled downward.
“Swell like her privacy,” Cutter replied.
The elevator stopped and Cutter slid a section of the cage aside.
“You got a shower, kitchen, and a game room with a TV. But we ain’t got time for anything but a shower.”
“I call the shower,” Bridgette called out, walking in the direction Cutter pointed. When she was out of earshot, Willow rushed to Cutter’s side. “We can’t trust her.”
“No shit. Can’t nobody trust a voodoo bitch.”
“But she has my friends. A couple from up in Nashville. They’re innocent in all of this.”
“Baby, ain’t nobody innocent in all of this. When you come to Arcadia, you know you getting into trouble.” Cutter let out a small laugh and then coughed it out pretending that he wasn’t making light of the situation.
“I’m serious. They aren’t from here. All they wanted was to buy the Bellafont…”
“Ha. Now that’s funny. These voodoo bitches and their brother own that place. They ain’t gonna sell to no one.”
“Well I need to find them all the same.” Her words were whispered but her panic was obvious.
“Okay, okay now. Maybe Swell will know something about all of that. And I sure as hell hope she found Evan and…”
Willow lifted her hand, allowing it to touch on Cutter’s lips. “Uh, Evan’s dead.” She said. He wasn’t the prettiest guy and he was awfully crude around the edges, but Willow had a heart for him. Not a big one, but enough to know the words would hit Cutter as hard as anyone who lost a friend or brother. “Lenora killed him.”
Cutter grabbed her arm. “Don’t play with me.” He looked in the direction of the shower. Bridgette had just turned the water on. “Don’t fucking play.”
“I’m not playing. Lenora got mad about him messing around on her with Bridgette. That guy I met. The couple. He saw the whole thing. Then they forced him to get rid of the body. Clean up the mess.”
“That make his ass guilty too.” Cutter had an edge to his voice. An edge of resentment and anger. “I’ll help you find that mother fucker alright.”
“He didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done to save your ass. Besides. He said they had something over him. I didn’t believe it, but when I found him he was almost dead. They’d thrown him in the swamp and he manage to escape. But he said they had some kind of mind control on him. I thought it was crazy. I thought he was delirious. But the longer I’m in Arcadia, I feel like anything could be true.”
“That’s that voodoo they do. You don’t want to hear the stories about those two. They go back a long way. Lots of men… and women, gone missing on their time. I tell you what. I’ll leave the fate of your friend to Swell. She may be nasty, but she’s what you also call…pra… pragma…”
“Pragmatic? I hope you’re right.” Willow bit her lower lip in thought, “So what now?”
“Same plan as before. We better off with that voodoo bitch on our side. So we use her to get in and rescue Swell and her boys.”
“And Rachel and Chase, right?”
“Sure, sure. And then, when the moment right, we all make sure them two voodoo bitches pay for their sins.”