“Then that’s what we’re going to do. Find Yaz.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Yarrow, honey, we need to talk to you,” said Nine.
“Are you going to make me leave?” she asked with a terrified expression.
“No. God, no! Why would you think that?” She shrugged.
“Is something wrong with my daddy?”
“Honey, we’re trying to find him. His cell phone is turned off, so we can’t get a read on where he is right now. Did your daddy have any places where he went to feel safe? Maybe someplace that was real special to the two of you?”
She looked at him, shaking her head, then looked down at the tiny gold Claddagh ring on her hand.
“Wait. The place he and Mama met. He used to say it was the happiest time of his life until I was born. We used to go out there and have a picnic and explore the grounds.”
“What grounds, honey? Where?” asked Ghost.
“Cypress Plantation. It’s that old home about to fall in, out on Highway 61. Daddy always said his great-grandparents lived there once upon a time, but I don’t see how. We don’t have that kind of money. The whole place looks like it’s gonna collapse. But he loved it. He said he and Mama had their first kiss out there.”
“It sounds like a special place, honey. You stay here, and we’re gonna go see if we can find your daddy.”
When the four men ran toward the big black SUV, she turned to Lydia and the other girls and shook her head.
“Aren’t they too old to be running around like that?”
“Yes,” laughed Faith. “But don’t tell them that. Men have fragile egos, honey, and we like to let them think they’re still young.” She shook her head, her expression filled with confusion.
“If you say so. Daddy used to say he didn’t understand women. I don’t think I’ll ever understand men.”
“You know where this place is?” asked Ian.
“Definitely,” smirked Gaspar. “It was far enough away from the city that when we were teens, we would go out there and have bonfires, chase the girls, catch a few, and do things we were too young to do.”
“I see,” nodded Ghost. “Is it really falling apart?”
“It was falling apart fifty years ago. I can’t imagine what it looks like now. It was once one of the grand plantations along the river. I think the owners finally let it go sometime in the 1960s. No one ever bought it, so it’s just crumbled.”
“What about the land? That must be worth a fortune,” said Nine.
“The land was bought by one of the chemical plants, and the house was deemed a historic structure. You couldn’t tear it down, but no one wanted to give them the money to repair it. I can’t believe it’s still standing at all.”
It was a forty-five-minute drive, and they reached the old mansion just as dusk was falling.
“Well, if this isn’t fifty kinds of hell in a horror movie,” muttered Ian.
“Yeah,” laughed Gaspar. “Seeing it as an adult, it does have that vibe. Which, I imagine, has kept folks away from it. Shit. I’m not sure it’s safe to even step up on the porch.”
“It’s not,” said the voice just inside the shadow of the doorway. “I’ve fallen through twice. Leave before I shoot.”
“Yaz? Yaz, it’s Gaspar Robicheaux. If that’s you, we’re here to help.” They heard the creaking of the boards, and the shadow began to emerge, looking weathered, worn, and beaten. He held a shotgun in his unsteady hands.
“Gaspar?”
“That’s right. Yaz, you look terrible, brother. Put the shotgun down. Yarrow is safe with Mama and the others. She’s awful worried about you.”
The man dropped the shotgun and fell face-first down the steps. Exhausted, hungry, dehydrated, he was done.