Page 9 of Scammed

The room froze as they stared at the woman, then at Marcel.

“You must be a relative. That’s how I know your name. Marcel Robicheaux was a man who lived in this area a very long time ago, some two hundred years or more. He was transporting goods from Europe, and his ship was attacked during a terrible storm. His family found part of the gold he was transporting and founded Prometheus. It’s been up and down for decades, sold by board members, broken apart, but it was always intended to provide help for the community with the funds that your ancestor brought back.”

“You know this how?” asked Gaspar.

“There’s a painting of him in our offices. I mean, not him, but a man that looks like him. It was one of the few original items not sold when the company was bought and sold over and over again. It’s truly remarkable. Maybe that’s why I fainted. You are identical.”

“This portrait,” said Marcel, clearing his throat, “was it painted by Henry Thomas Sullivan?”

“Yes!” she smiled. “You do know of it.”

“Yes. Yes, I know of it. In fact, I – it was painted right here at Belle Fleur, our family land. The artist was very good and my, I mean, Robicheaux’s mother wanted a portrait of her son to remember him by since he was sailing so frequently.”

Amy stared at him, tilting her head to the side. He’d said ‘I’ or ‘my’ several times. She wondered if perhaps he had a head injury as well.

“Do you know of him? Your ancestor?” she asked.

“Some,” smiled Marcel. “He would be Gaspar’s ancestor as well. We are - we are cousins.”

“You look alike,” she smiled. “I can see his good looks in your own. I don’t believe he ever married, which seems unfathomable to me.”

“Why?” asked Marcel.

“Well, he was strikingly good-looking, wealthy, from a wonderful family, but more than that, at least to me, what’s more than that is he cared about his fellow man. He refused to use his ships for slaves or slave trading. He refused to entertain traditional prostitutes, instead accepting favors from women in need and helping them. It sounds weird, but to me, at least, he was helping women left alone. And for every load of goods he brought back from Europe, he made sure a portion of it went to those less fortunate. You have very good genetics.”

There was utter silence in the room as Marcel stood pacing across the room toward the door. Gaspar watched the man, then looked at Amy, the concern evident on her face.

“He’s alright,” he smiled. “We’ve been trying to find information about his, I mean, our family for a while.”

“I see,” she said quietly. “Well, if you’d like some help, it’s something I do in my spare time. I love genealogy.”

“Are you from this area?” asked Code.

“All my life,” she grinned. “The Fontenot family has lived in this part of the state for about as long as your family. In fact, I was told that my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, Arturo Babin, was on the ship that sank.”

“Arturo,” whispered Marcel, rubbing his beard. Amy looked at him, his perplexed features confusing to her. “Excuse me.”

Marcel left the room, Nine following him, giving a smile and nod to Amy. Code and Gaspar sat down to speak with her further.

“Marcel? Are you alright?” asked Nine.

“What magic is this?” asked the ghost, or once ghost.

“I’m not sure, Marcel. I’m never sure when it comes to the strangeness and magic of this place. But something is happening for sure. Did you know her ancestor?”

“Very well. He was a good first mate, a good friend. When we were rammed, he was trapped below, and I went down to free him. He was able to get out, but I was not. She favors him. Her large dark eyes and curly hair. Much prettier, of course.”

“Of course,” smiled Nine. “Listen, Marcel, I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but while you’re here, use this time to experience the world. If you want to do something, go somewhere, eat something, just let us know. We’ll make it happen.”

“I wish to know her,” he said quietly. He turned to look at Nine. “I cannot explain it. It’s not just that I wish to touch a woman again, feel her beneath me, but I wish to get to know that woman. Is that selfish of me?”

“I don’t think it’s ever selfish for a man to want to know a woman that appeals to him. If you ask me, you were in that spot for a reason, and it was to save that young woman. Or maybe she was put there to save you,” grinned Nine. “What do you say we find out?”

“I think I would like that very much.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“Mama, I’m not going to yell at you or Pops. I just want to know if you did something to Marcel,” said Gaspar. “This is close to the weirdest thing we’ve ever experienced, and I don’t want to see him or this nice girl, Amy, get hurt.”

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