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A quick trip to the Intranet revealed that Arianna Beasly’s in-laned a home in the Garden District, while her family, the Favreaus, still lived in the French Quarter The calendar ht read century twenty-one, but in New Orleans the old ways prevailed
The original Favreaus had coleam in Thomas Jefferson’s eye Back then, the upper-crust French resided in the Quarter, eventually the Spanish did, too However, when the Americans showed up, they were shunnedAmericans, they’d taken their filthy an in the business district and stretched into what is non as the Garden District
Aer is always better, and if we can’t buy ant, we’ll just build ant and call it superior to the original
Mrs Beasly would be considered a Creole, a descendant of Europeans born in the colonies That and the fah tax bracket of the Quarter explained the crypt at St Louis Cemetery Number One
No doubt the Beaslys owned a crypt in the more modern Lafayette Cemetery Number One, which bordered the Garden District Perhaps Arianna had chosen to be buried with her side of the family Not unco of a deal as where you were born
At any rate, Cassandra and I rang the bell at a gorgeous nineteenth-century houndy Street The door was opened by a tiny, wizened old lady sporting a ferocious scowl
"We do not have ghosts, good day"
She began to slam the door, but I blurted, "We came to talk about Mrs Beasly"
The wo the ray eyes, her cataracts were the problem, not her prescription
"You’re friends of Arianna’s?"
"Yes," Cassandra answered before I could say, Not really
Cassandra shot lare as the elderly woman invited us inside
"I’m sorry I was rude, but there are stories about this house, and all those dahost walk tours stop outside and stare at us So the doorbell and ask to see the room where it happened"
"Where what happened?" I asked
"The murder, of course"
"Of course," Cassandra said
The woman tottered to her chair, and Cassandra took the opportunity to whisper, "There’s always a host around here That’s not e cahost stories in the French Quarter, we’d never get to the olves
"You see to know my Arianna" She motioned for us to take seats nearby
"She was your" I hesitated
This woman resembled Mrs Beasly around the eyes and mouth, but was she a sister, an aunt, atheir generation
"Granddaughter I’m Marie Favreau"
"Ma’a a small smile "Mrs Beasly and I met at the library I was sorry to hear about her accident"
Mrs Favreau’s lips lost the sether as if she wanted to keep the words inside But she couldn’t "That was no accident"
Cassandra and I exchanged glances
"How so?" Cassandra asked
Mrs Favreau looked around, then beckoned us closer "We wouldn’t have buried her so quickly, without benefit of a church service, if ere only talking about a dog"
"What are we talking about?" I asked
She ers - half sign of the cross, kind of an FU I wasn’t sure what to do
"Protection against evil," Cassandra murmured
Mrs Favreau considered her with a contemplative expression "You know the old ways"
"Oh yeah"
"Then you knoe stuffed her ram on her chest" Mrs Favreau continued
"Monkshood?" I asked
"Wolfsbane," Cassandra translated
Thatin Mrs Beasly’s ander at her chest Considering she was ashes, I’d have to take Granny’s word for it
"Loup-garou," Mrs Favreau whispered, andsomewhere
"The bitten must be encased in cement and properly prepared or they’ll rise and walk as a wolf," she continued
"I’ently
I wondered how long we’d had before Mrs Beasly turned into a wolf Noe’d never know
Mrs Favreau hite "She’ll come for me She’ll know I’m the one who had her buried that way"
"Relax," I said "She’s dead for good this time Shot with silver, we think"
The woers pressed to her mouth "Thank you"
"Wasn’t us"
"That doesn’tas she’s truly dead She wasn’t Arianna any Mrs Beasly’s sharp teeth and propensity for drooling, I had to agree
"What do you know of the loup-garou?" I asked
"Only the legend"
"You’ve never seen a olf?"
She closed her eyes, took a breath, then opened theain "We take care to bury certain bodies in certain ways so the dead don’t walk"