Plantation Shudders Read Online Free Page B

Jan, who Maggie had learned was the Cajun Cuties’ board president. While the other guests helped themselves to reasonable portions, Hal heaped his plate with pecan pancakes, scrambled eggs, andouille sausage, cheese grits, fruit, and Lia’s delicate croissants, clearly determined to squeeze every last breakfast item out ofthe complimentary buffet. Bev sported a slightly modified version of her husband’s plate. The couple’s eating habits are eating away at our profits, Maggie thought darkly.
    “Everything is delicious,” Beverly said, smiling as always. Maggie wondered if she slept with that grin on her face.
    “It’s predictable,” Hal declared. “I’m disappointed in the lack of creativity.”
    Then stop stuffing your face with it , Maggie wanted to scream. Instead she said, “We’ll work on that.”
    As soon as the guests finished breakfast and left the table, Maggie cleared it. She was about to return to the shotgun when she heard a timid voice behind her.
    “Excuse me.” Maggie turned to see Cutie Debbie. “We were wondering if you’d like to come into town with us. We want to support the local businesses and perhaps you could fill us in on some of Pelican’s history on the way.”
    Maggie decided to embrace the opportunity to remove herself from the Clabbers’ beck and call. “That sounds like a great idea,” she told Debbie and followed her to the Cuties’ van, where the rest of the group greeted Maggie’s addition to their numbers with great joy. She climbed into the front passenger seat of the van, and they took off.
    As Jan drove the women into the village, Maggie pointed out the occasional landmark—like an old schoolhouse that still possessed a working bell and a white-columned Jesuit monastery almost two hundred years old.
    “You see that alley of trees that ends in an empty field?” she said to the women as she gestured out the window toward the river. “That’s where another plantation once stood.”
    “Petite Chambord,” Jan said. “Once the largest in the area, lost to fire in 1871.”
    Maggie looked at Jan in surprise. “Nice. I’m impressed.”
    Jan shrugged and grinned. “What can I say? I gotta have something to put in my Cajun Cuties newsletters.”
    The van made its way into Pelican and found an empty parking spot in front of Fais Dough Dough. Maggie jumped out and was dropping coins into the meter when she saw Rufus “Ru” Durand saunter toward her. Ru was the Pelican chief of police, a patronage job that few residents gave much thought to since crime in the town was so infrequent. Ru, who was the color and shape of unbaked bread dough, was oblivious to his lack of importance. But fortunately for Pelican, his arrogance and sense of superiority were kept in check by what many locals considered a genetic streak of laziness.
    “Hey, Maggie.”
    “Hey, Ru.”
    Ru took the nightstick he was swinging like a Keystone cop and pointed it at the meter where Maggie was parked. “That got changed, ya know. Only half an hour.”
    “Yes, I do know,” Maggie checked her phone. “It’s 8:54. I’ll be back at 9:24.”
    “So will I,” Rufus said. “Ready to write you a ticket at 9:25.”
    Maggie clenched her teeth and managed to refrain from a nasty comeback. She knew Ru was taunting her. Enmity between her family and the Durands went back more than one hundred fifty years. “Not to worry, Ru. I’ll be right on time.”
    “If you say so.” Rufus turned to the Cuties. “Enjoy your all-too-brief visit to the bakery, ladies. And Maggie, tell Lia that Ithink of free coffee and croissants more as a thank-you than a bribe. I’m just sayin’.”
    Rufus winked at her and strolled off. Jan glared at his back. “In New Jersey, we have words for guys like him.”
    Maggie laughed. “I bet they’re the same words we have in Louisiana. I’m sorry about that. Let’s just forget it ever happened and buy us some homemade treats!”
    The Cuties happily followed her into the