There was no denying the little sneer in her voice. It was considered an insult for a large company to come into the bayou and not hire the locals who needed work. Most of the families living on the river would have taken it the same way. The “big shot” hadn’t made any friends with his decision to give work to outsiders, but he hadn’t broken any laws either.
“Who owns the land now, Nonny?” he asked.
Whitney Trust had owned it, and Lily, Whitney’s daughter, had sold it the moment she realized her father had used the facilities to experiment on a child. Wyatt didn’t look at either of the Fortunes brothers. Like him, they were fairly new in the GhostWalker force, but he had information they didn’t on the founder and creator of the program.
“They have a big sign up on their fourteen-foot-high chain-link fence with razor wire rolled up along on the top and men with guns patrolling with dogs,” Nonny said in disgust. “Like they’re afraid everyone in the bayou wants to know their business.”
Wyatt couldn’t stop the grin. “Nonny, everyone in the bayou does want to know their business.”
She threw back her head and laughed, the sound adding to the feeling of home.
“Ma’am,” Malichai interrupted. “Do you mind if I have another bowl of this very good gumbo? I’ve never tasted anything like it.”
“It’s authentic gumbo, a traditional recipe that’s been in my family for generations,” Nonny said, looking pleased. “Dive right in, that’s what it’s there for. We always have somethin’ cookin’ on the stove for you when you come in hungry.”
“I’m always hungry,” Malichai admitted.
“You’re a big man and it takes a might of food to keep you satisfied,” she said.
“If you don’t mind me saying, ma’am,” Ezekiel said, “he’s got some kind of hollow leg that’s plain impossible to fill. I ought to know, I tried for years.”
“He broke into a grocery store once,” Malichai said, “you know, back when we were kids,” he added hastily when Wyatt shot him a look. “The kind that has the hot chicken roasting and already-cooked food. Our brother Mordichai and I feasted all night and we were still hungry in the morning. Ezekiel said it was impossible to keep up with our stomachs.”
“He’s like a starved wolf, ma’am,” Ezekiel said. “Never gains an ounce of fat, but he gorges on food when we’ve got it. Our other brother is the same way.”
Nonny’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “You boys had no one lookin’ after you when you were young? Not anyone?”
Malichai shrugged. “We did a pretty good job of it, ma’am. We had each other’s backs. We grew up in a city, and we knew every building and alley there was.” He scooped a hefty amount of gumbo into his bowl and caught up a generous amount of bread before taking his seat.
“The older we got, the easier it was,” Ezekiel added. “We got a reputation for fighting and the others left us alone.”
Nonny shook her head. “You boys. You’ll fit right in with my boys. They do like to fight.” She sat back in her chair with a feigned little slump. “I should put in a call to Delmar and warn him you might be visitin’ his place and not to let the three of you in.”
“The Delmar that saw the Rougarou,” Malichai clarified.
“That’s the one,” Wyatt said. “His place, the Huracan Club, is the best place on the bayou to go for drinks, women and fights. Well, for drinks and fights. Or just plain fights,” Wyatt said to the Fortunes brothers. He laughed and raised his eyebrow at his grandmother. “That would just be mean, Nonny. We’re all grown up now and we don’ get into trouble like we used to.”
She gave a little unladylike snort. “I’m expectin’ lightnin’ to strike you any minute now, boy.”
“Why the shotgun, Nonny?” Wyatt persisted quietly, slipping the question back in casually. He slathered butter on the bread and took a bite. Pure heaven. Evidently Ezekiel and Malichai felt the same. They were making short work of the three loaves his grand-mere had baked.
“That fence is right along that swamp area where my plants I need for medicinal purposes grow. I was there harvestin’ the other day and some kind of ruckus broke out in that buildin’, with alarms shriekin’ and voices on loudspeakers. Dogs were goin’ crazy, and the guards got all panicked. Now that’s none of my business. My plants was my business, Wyatt.”
Wyatt put down his spoon and sat back, giving her his full attention.
“All of a sudden, these men surround me, trampin’ through my plants and swearin’ like they was gunna kill me. I had to raise my hands, and one of them put his hands on me, so I kicked him where it counts.”
Wyatt felt the familiar surge of heat rushing through his body, threatening to boil over. He had a temper, he knew that, but his enhancement had made it worse, much more difficult to control, and the thought of a man putting his hands on his grandmother made his blood swirl hotly. Beneath the table his fists clenched and under his feet, the floor shivered.
Both Ezekiel and Malichai put down their spoons as well, heads up alertly, suddenly listening just as closely to what Nonny had to say.